The Burden of Proof
by danagabrielle
Summary: Bones was never one to just believe. She would need proof. And he was going to do just that. If the bumps in the road didn't prevent him from finally crossing that line. spoiler-inspired. But not enough to ruin it for you. Last chapter M-rated!
1. This Is Not an Accusation

**A.N.:**** Well, you got to me. So here I am, setting my life aside, once again, because I can't stop thinking about new things those two should get a chance to do and say... *sigh* **

**Man! I can't believe, somewhere out there, people are getting PAID to do this. Lucky bastards.**

**Cheers! And here's to another journey with you, amazing reviewers!**

* * *

The BURDEN OF PROOF: " – is the obligation to shift the assumed conclusion away from an oppositional opinion to one's own position. It can only be fulfilled by evidence."

_Semper necessitas probandi incumbit ei qui agit  
- _The burden of proof always lies upon the claimant

Chapter 1  
THIS IS NOT AN ACCUSATION

The Founding Fathers was unusually quiet tonight, a fact that the partners welcomed with open arms. After the day they had just had, a quiet evening drinking was really all they could handle.

"I can't believe it was him all along!" she said, exhausted. "You interrogated him five times and it never occurred to you he might be the killer."

"Are you saying I suck?" Booth checked, inwardly agreeing with her.

"Hardly. I'm saying he was really good. In a really bad way."

"No. You're right. I suck."

She tilted her head while he drank from his beer, eyes drifting around.

"His motive was skimpy, at best," he explained. "He didn't have to... I never thought he was the type of guy to just go off like that, no reason. But I should have seen it."

By the way he was staring at it now, his glass seemed quite interesting. Brennan bit her lips.

"You used to say people were run by their emotions. You didn't try to find the rationality behind their actions. Maybe you should..."

"Are you about to give me advice, Bones?"

"I just think you should stop with the logic thing. You're not cut out for it."

"Yeah, ok, I know. You've told me plenty of times already that I'm not a genius."

"This has nothing to do with intelligence, Booth. You should reconcile with your gut."

"Reconcile with my gut?" he laughed. That was one sentence he never thought he'd hear her say. Ever.

"Yes."

They locked eyes. She took permission to dig a little bit, to figure out what was going on.

"What happened to you? You're... different."

"People change. They adapt. Isn't that what you always say? An inevitable inevitability or something like that."

She didn't even point out his redundancy. She knew he was doing it on purpose.

"I'd rather you didn't change. Too much," she confessed, rotating her glass between her fingers.

"Because it's making you anxious and full of acid reflux?"

She squinted her eyes at him.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"See?" he laughed, raising a hand. "You're changing, too! You used to be oblivious when people made fun of you."

"People made fun of me?"

His hand found her forearm on the table without him having to look for it.

"I'm just teasing," he said, comforting.

She set her empty glass aside, sighing. She was wiped.

"Want some more wine?" he asked her.

She shook her head.

"I shouldn't. Got an early day tomorrow."

She grabbed her purse and took out her wallet, but Booth stopped her.

"It's on me," he said.

"Thanks. Hey, do you think we drink too much?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... we're always here. Maybe we have a problem."

Booth's laugh resonated through her. She felt warm.

"Aw, come on, Bones, just because you have one glass of wine every night with your friend doesn't mean you're an alcoholic."

A wave ran through them both. Sorely familiar. Yet neither of them could remember ever uttering those words. So they ignored it, after frowning to themselves for a quick second.

"Well..." She knew she had to leave, but she was stuck in place, her coat hanging on her forearm, shifting on her feet.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, as he always did.

"Yes." Her gaze still on him, it was clear he had no intention on walking her to her car. "You're staying?"

He nodded. "Cam said she might drop by later."

She faked a smile as best as she could. She had stopped trying a while ago to figure out why her stomach turned slightly every time he shared a case-closed moment with others, without her.

"Ok, then." ... "Goodnight."

"G'night, Bones."

_We should stop staring, now._

She mindlessly made sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Those goodbyes they exchanged ever day were getting weirder and weirder. Softer. Lingering and deep. Weird.

She didn't run out. But she was out quickly.

***

_And now... _Just a few more conclusion words... _I am..._ and his report would be complete. _Done._ Booth stretched his arms over his head. Finally! When you decide to become a cop, no one ever tells you that more than half the work is made of paperwork. He closed his eyes, looking forward to getting out of his suit.

"Booth, I'm sorry to bother you. Do you have a minute?"

Eyes still closed, Booth refrained from sighing. His jaw clenched, but he tried to calm down. It would not be a great career move to tell him to go to hell.

"Sure. What can I do for you, boss?"

Hacker came in and shut the glass door behind him.

_Great. More Bones talk._

"I thought maybe you could enlighten me on what Temperance's tastes are, flower-wise."

Like he was going to tell him.

"How would I know?"

Hacker just raised an eyebrow. _Come on._

Booth took a deep breath. This had gone on for too long, already.

"Sir... I would appreciate it if you would stop using me as your inside man. And let me out of it."

Andrew just laughed. Annoyingly.

"Come on, Booth! You two are like... inseparable. I couldn't let you out of it if I wanted to. Sometimes I feel like I'm dating a married woman!"

_Then, don't date her!_

The assistant director understood Booth was not going to help. Which brought up the question again.

"Can I ask you something?"

_No._

"Why didn't you ever make a move on her? As a reformed gambler, I would assume you'd like the challenge." _Though it wouldn't be a very tough challenge._

Booth frowned, almost disgusted.

"Bones is not someone you just give it a shot with. She needs someone who calls her out on her crap. Someone who's sure to never let her go. She's not a prize in a..." _Deep breath, pal. Calm down. _

Hacker didn't want Booth to get the wrong impression.

"I didn't mean to imply anything like that. I was just curious as to why you two never got together. Because... If you're afraid of going against FBI regulations..."

"It's nothing like that, sir." _And I'm not discussing this with you._

Hacker nodded.

"Well... Alright, then."

And turned around to leave. But just before he stepped out, Booth said,

"Daffodils. Or daisies. You can't go wrong with either of those."

There was no reason why Bones couldn't get the flowers she deserved.

*************

"I'm gonna tell her," Booth told Cam as soon as she sat down.

"Tell who what?"

"Bones. I'm gonna tell her how I feel."

Cam's face suddenly changed. Booth knew that look. Disapprobation. Again.

"What?" he sighed.

"Nothing!"

"Yeah, right."

"Just..." Cam sat up straighter. She loved him dearly. She didn't want to see him run into a wall. "Are you _sure_ she's ready?"

"Well... she admitted she believed in love. How much more ready can she get?" he asked.

"That's good," Cam said, impressed. "But is she ready to believe _you_?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been partners for over 4 years. And all of a sudden, you're in love with her?"

"There's nothing sudden about it, believe me," he mumbled.

"To you, maybe. And to all of us. But to her? It _will_ come out of the blue."

"I'm running out of options here, Cam." He was not going to let anyone scare him into going back into hiding. "I'm just gonna put myself out there and let her process everything. As long as it takes." After 5 or 6 beers, he was bound to have a little confidence.

"Oh, so you're gonna give her time to rationalize everything? Good plan," she sarcastically put it.

Booth sighed and wiped his tired face with his hand.

"I have to do something," he said. "Hacker is not going anywhere."

Cam snorted. _Hacker._

"You seriously worried about him?" she asked, trying to resist the peanuts in the basket in front of them.

Booth shrugged.

"Nah!" he laughed off, fumbling with a coaster. "He just annoys me."

But Cam read through him. "Well, I wouldn't worry, if I were you," she reassured him.

"Why? What did you hear?"

Booth was pretending to be casual. Pretending not to care.

"That he was nice and easy going," she said.

"_I'm_ nice and easy going..." he said.

Cam put a friendly hand on his back.

"You don't say that a man is nice if you want to sleep with him."

He had spent all his time and energy trying to help her open up so she could let someone -him- in. What if he had succeeded, broken into her hard exterior, so she could let someone –not him- in?

"What if you tell her you don't want her to date him?" Cam continued.

Booth frowned. He couldn't do that. Could he?

"She'll do what you ask of her. You might not even have to justify any of it."

It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

*************

Brennan readjusted the strap of her messenger bag on her shoulder. That bag, heavy with... nonsense. Nonsense that she had to share. She knocked one more time.

"Bones! What are you doing here?" he asked, holding the door open.

"I had to drop this by," she said, shoving her bag in his hands and pushing him out of the way to enter. "There's a copy for you in there."

She stopped in her track. Booth's apartment was full of cigar smoke. Then, she saw them. Three men, sitting in the living room, staring at her. She turned to Booth.

"Who are these men?" she asked, just above a whisper.

_Right._

Booth set her bag down, next to the door.

"These are my friends, Bones."

"I didn't know you had friends," she let out, surprised.

Booth frowned and laughed.

"Or course I have friends! What, do you think I'm a..."

"No, I mean... Why haven't I ever met them?"

His smile softened.

"Bones, this is the guys. Guys, this is Bones."

One of the _guys_ got up and shook her hand.

"Tony. Nice to finally meet you. No wonder Booth wanted to keep you to himself."

She caught a glimpse of Booth shaking his head.

"Nice to meet you too, Tony."

"You wanna join us? Watch the game?" one of them asked.

"A game of what?" she inquired, approaching the couch.

But Booth took her by the shoulders.

"Bones was just leaving."

"No. I just arrived," she corrected him.

"Maybe some other time," he continued, spinning her around. "Come on." And he guided her to the door.

Brennan was a little disappointed. Why wouldn't Booth let her stay and meet his friends? She thought she had improved a lot in social situations. She was way less 'awkward', as he liked to put it. Was he still embarrassed by her?

Booth took his time before taking his hands off of her shoulders. He wanted her to stay. But those guys... He didn't need one of them to spill his secret before he'd had a chance to tell her first. And one of them was bound to cross that line for them. Not a good idea.

"Your friends are really handsome," she pointed out.

"What?"

"Especially Tony."

Booth's frown grew deeper. She didn't really notice and continued.

"I'm surprised. Usually, alpha-males tend to surround themselves with individuals who are less attractive than they are to insure their status."

Booth was almost grimacing now.

"You think Tony's more attractive than I am?" he couldn't help but ask.

"No! You still..." she quickly replied, but then stopped herself. "What?"

She saw him stand taller.

"You know, Tony's not the most... uhm... he dates a lot. He's not that reliable. Plus, he has two ex-wives. That's a lot of baggage. You don't want to... uhm... He's not a guy you want in your life."

It was Brennan's turn to frown.

"He's your friend. Don't you like him?"

"I'm not talking about me. Bones..."

Here was his chance. This was the moment where he had to ask her, gently and subtly –but not too subtly- to stop dating his boss.

"Maybe you should enlarge your dating pool a little," he stated. _That came out wrong._

"My dating pool?" She was lost.

"Yeah! You know. The guys you date. It's like you're doing it on purpose."

"What did I do?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

"What's with you and my entourage? First Sully..."

He hadn't meant to go that way back. But there.

She interrupted him with an accusing finger.

"He asked you first and you said you were ok with it."

He ignored her.

"And Jared."

She gasped.

"It was _one_ evening! We barely even... Plus, he's getting married."

"Then, you went out with my boss! My _boss_, Bones!"

"So what?" she retorted on the defensive. "You dated my boss, too."

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

"I met her first," he blurted out.

She took the time to close her mouth who was hanging open, shocked, before she opened it again.

"Oh. So... that's the rule now? We can date whomever we meet first?"

Booth kept silent. This had gotten out of hand. Arguing with her required a lot more preparation if you wanted any slight chance of winning. He sighed.

"Just to be clear," she recapitulated. "You don't want me to date anyone you know?"

"I'd prefer you didn't," he admitted.

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged.

"You know a lot of people, Booth. You want me to move to another state, maybe?"

He grunted.

"Just ignore what I said."

"Fine."

She stared at his shirt for a while. When she felt slightly calmer, she took her bag, which was near the door, and opened it.

"How would you feel if I started dating Angela?"

He had meant to give her an example. But maybe he should have just dropped it.

"Angela's great," she replied before thinking. "I..." But then, the mental images kicked in. _God, no._ "I get it," she realized, looking down. "It doesn't make any sense, but I understand. I'm sorry."

"Good."

"And I wouldn't say I'm dating Andrew," she added, digging through her bag. "We're... socializing."

"Well, you better tell him, because he's convinced you are dating. How did you like the flowers, by the way?"

He hadn't realized his fists were clenched tightly. He tried to relax.

"I don't particularly like roses, but... Hold on. How did you know?"

Booth didn't even try to hide his smirk.

"Roses, huh?" _Maybe he thought I was setting him up for a trap._

"Here," she said, handing him a big stack of paper she had taken out of her bag.

"What's this?"

She didn't answer.

"Maybe you should go out," she suggested instead.

"With you?" he asked, like the moron he felt he was.

Brennan's heart skipped a beat or two. But she forced it back on track.

"What? No! Maybe the fact that your younger sibling is getting married before you is making you irritable. You could use a woman's company."

"A woman's company?" he repeated. He swallowed the hole she had punched in his gut. And he punched her back. "Thanks, Bones. I might just do that."

Still wondering what he was holding, he asked again.

"What's this?"

"Sweets' book. He wants us to read it before it comes out."

"Did you already read it?"

She snorted sarcastically.

"Yes. And he is clearly deluded."

Booth nodded. She opened the door and turned one last time to him before heading out.

"Uhm... Booth?"

"What?"

She bit her lips together before she had enough courage to ask.

"You won't date Angela, right?"

Booth laughed out loud.

"I won't date Angela."

And she was out.

----------

TBC...


	2. Refutation

**A.N.**** Thanks for your support again! And thanks to Julie for her clear insights, magic compliments and constructive inputs. :) But you won't make me change my mind. Désolée.**

Chapter 2  
Refutation

Sweets knew this was unavoidable. This confrontation. He was prepared. After careful thought and countless hours of rich observations, he had decided to finally publish his book. He knew it would generate a strong –probably antagonistic– reaction, but he was convinced they were ready to face the facts. Face its conclusion. And no matter how they would decide to try and convince him otherwise, they would fail. His theory was solid. Bullet proof. As long as Booth didn't take out his real gun.

But he was surprised to only find her in his office. No sign of Booth. She was acting on her own. This rattled him a little. He had expected to face them both at the same time. 'Divide and conquer' wasn't their usual approach.

"Dr. Brennan," he said, closing the door and walking to his desk. "Here by yourself?"

She was sitting on the sofa, with what looked like his manuscript on her lap. She waited until he sat down.

"This is garbage," she stated, dropping his book on the table in front of her in a loud attempt to make a point. "But that was to be expected coming from a psychologist."

"Ok... Do you wish to tell me what you disagree on exactly?"

"All of it!" she almost cried out. "You perception of us is very... wrong." She has difficulty sticking to a rich vocabulary when this upset. And Sweets knew that.

"I understand your frustration, but I'm sticking to it."

Her voice softened a little.

"Over time, I have developed a certain respect for your opinion," she said. "Most of the time. And I, sometimes, even take it into consideration. But I cannot sit there and let you... publish this. And I'm here to warn you that Booth is probably going to want to hurt you."

Sweets tried not to shudder.

"And are you sure that Booth will disagree with my book, too?"

She almost laughed.

"Of course! You're saying he's in love with me. That is not going to sit well with him. He is not in love with me."

"How do you know that?" he asked, carefully.

Her heart was beating so fast, she didn't even realize he was using therapy techniques on her.

"Have you _met_ Booth? Don't you think he would have said something if he were? He's _Booth._ He's all about emotions. If he did... love me... he definitely would have said something."

"And how would you have responded, might I ask ?"

She didn't have time to answer that. She had further proof to bring in.

"Plus! Aesthetically, I am not his type. He prefers blonds. That's what pleases him, physically. He always goes for blonds. I, as you can see, am not blond. At all."

"That's interesting," Sweets said.

"I knew you would understand," she concluded.

"Oh no. I'm still convinced I'm right."

Brennan frowned. Her heart was in her throat now.

"YOU!" Booth's voice startled them. Then, the door slammed behind him and Sweets jumped out of his chair.

Who did that tiny shrink think he was? Reveal everything, in writing, before he even had a chance to figure out a way to tell her? Wasn't he the one who told him his feelings weren't real? Didn't he tell him to wait?

"You had NO RIGHT, Sweets!"

"I told you so," Brennan let out, so greatly pleased.

That's when he saw her on the couch. He narrowed his eyes at Sweets to make him understand how lucky he was that she had gotten here first.

"Agent Booth," Sweets started, not too shaky. "Here to refute my theory, too, I presume?"

"No. I'm here for a signed copy. What do you think?"

He didn't sound any calmer.

"Have a seat," the psychologist said, pointing the spot next to Brennan.

"My gun's easier to reach when I'm standing up."

"Booth," she whispered. She grabbed his arm and pulled him down next to her. She pulled harder as he didn't comply. "Booth, come on. I was just explaining to Sweets he got it all wrong. Come on."

"Do you agree, agent Booth? Am I wrong?"

That small bastard was taunting him now? He was gonna...

"Booth," she pleaded again.

He slowly sat down, never letting Sweets out of his gaze. This book, this timing... It was out of line.

"You think I'm wrong, too?" Sweets asked him again.

Booth held his breath. No one was going to force him into a confession right now. It was too important. Too private. Not to be done in a psychologist's office.

Brennan sensed her partner was about to lose his temper again. She put a soothing hand on his thigh.

"I was about to point out to Dr. Sweets that his book is misdirected from page one. That we did not always make a great team. Remember?"

"I'd rather not," Booth winced, a little calmer. "Let's just say that you are way off when you say, and I almost quote, 'Our discrepancies as individuals are the foundation of a well balanced need for blablabla...' You are wrong."

"Yes. We did not mesh well. I would even say we had a profound dislike of the each other."

Booth laughed and turned to her.

"You hated me."

"Yes. And you, too, thought I was insufferable."

Booth rolled his eyes. That was an understatement.

"It's a wonder we even talk today," Brennan added.

Booth locked eyes with her and nodded a smirk.

"Why? What happened?" Sweets inquired.

Brennan's eyes dropped to his lips as she breathed in. She turned to Sweets.

"Once you hear this, you will understand just how wrong your whole theory is," she said. "And then you can burn your book."

**************** YEAR 2004********************

"Who's this? You're little brother?"

They both reached the forensic platform.

"This is my assistant."

"Oooh. Fancy."

Booth dug his hands into his pockets.

He smelled good, but his condescending attitude had rebuffed her instantly. Jock. She didn't care for jocks.

"Zack, this is special agent Booth with the FBI."

"Are we being investigated again?" the young man asked.

_That boy looks fun to annoy,_ Booth thought.

"No. He'll be working with us for the next few days."

Booth cleared his throat and looked at the forensic doctor.

"You got it backwards, Missy..."

But the freezing look she shot him made him rethink his phrasing.

"Dr Brennan, here, is mistaken," he tried instead, unsteadily. But somehow, calling her _doctor_ didn't feel right. "You'll be working for me," he directed at Zack.

"You keep telling yourself that," she mumbled.

Zack smiled at her, but lost his happy disposition as soon as he caught Booth's seriously intimidating stare. And he concentrated on his computer. _Good boy._ _This is gonna be fun!_ He looked at the doc again. She was way too pretty to be stuck in a lab. When she walked away, when he was sure she wasn't looking, he seized her up and down. He would have to find her another name. Something short. Something easy to remember. Something amusing. Ah!

"Bones!"

She still wasn't looking.

"Hey, Bones!" he called out, following her. No sign of acknowledgement.

"Bones!" he tried again.

She stopped in her track, frowning.

"They didn't tell me you had Tourette's."

"No! It's..."

And she was off again. With Booth in toe.

_Strike that. This is going to be a nightmare._

***

"You're looking for a handheld bush hammer and a left-handed man between 175 and 185 centimetres tall."

Booth, who had just come back to the lab to see if they needed his help, sensed a headache was nearing.

"What?"

_Who the hell speaks in centimetres?_

"She just described the murder weapon and the killer for you, big man. Try and keep up," a weird-looking frizzy dude barked at him.

_Another one of those weirdoes who can't trust the FBI. How refreshing._ He decided to ignore him and put his attention back on the beautiful bone lady, when a woman, looking somewhat out of place here in her normalcy, arrived.

"The remains are here, Brennan." She turned to him. "Wow. Who's _this_?"

"You haven't seen the remains, yet?" he asked Dr. Brennan, confused.

"No," she told him before responding to Angela. "Angela, this is agent Seeley Booth from the FBI." Brennan gauged him up and down, with a certain evident disdain. "The bureau is helpless and they need us to do their job."

He flashed her his charming smile to soften her up, but she frowned –not to say grimaced- and turned around. _Oooooookay._ He looked back at Angela and tried it on her. She took it with delight. _Finally! A real human being!_

"So, Angela..." he wanted to make sure. "She hasn't looked at the remains. What, was she guessing the stuff she just told me?"

The weird-looking frizzy guy growled an exaggerated laugh. Brennan spun around as fast as she could.

"Of course not. Guessing's _your _department," she administered.

Booth snorted.

"Is she always this fun?" he asked the pretty brunette.

Angela hid a smirk.

"Autopsy x-rays," the cold doctor said, slapping a brown envelope on his chest so he would take it. "I'll be examining the remains if you need anything else. Have a nice day!" she said without really caring if he did or not. And she left.

"Bones! Wait up!" He hurried after her. "Bones!"

"You have to stop calling me that," she told him, spinning around but continuing to make her way to the exam room. "It's ridiculous. I have a doctorate from Northwes..."

"Yeah, I know," he interrupted her. "This is a serious case. I need you to focus and stop pulling my leg."

She made a face.

"Wh... I never touched your leg!"

_Is she serious?_

"It's a figure of speech, ok?"

He had caught up with her now, so she stopped walking and pushed his torso.

_This man has no idea what personal space means._

"You have all you need to continue your investigation. So _you_ focus," she said, patronizingly, "and I'll call you if I find anything else."

She tapped on his chest twice and entered the room.

"Is it too much to ask for a little explanation as to _how_ you came up with this stuff about centimetres, or do I have to take your word for it?"

She sighed heavily. Over-slowly, she took the brown envelope from him, opened it and took out the x-rays. She put them up on a white board and turned the light on behind it.

"There. Those are from the repeated impact of the conical points at the end of the metal slug of a bush hammer."

"The tiny dots?" Booth squinted. He really wasn't seeing anything. Maybe she was making this up to get rid of him.

She went on.

"Judging by the depth of these... _tiny dots_," she dummied up for him, "I was able to determine the physical force of the attacker, therefore figuring out he was male. The directionality of the... _tiny dots_ suggest the victim was struck by a right hand."

"Ha!" he startled her with an accusing finger. "But you said I was looking for a lefty man."

_So he really was listening._

"See why I wanted to confirm with you?" he said. "You misspoke and I would have been looking for the wrong half of the male population."

"Right-handers make up more than half of the population. 90 to 93 %, to be exact. And that's counting women. And I never misspeak. If you want the right perpetrator, you need to look for a _lefty._"

"But you sa..."

This man was giving her a headache.

"The angle of the blows suggests the victim was struck by a right hand, but this, here... clearly indicates a lack of muscle power. The person who did this was not using his good hand and was not used to it. So you are probably looking for a man who injured his left arm or hand recently. Anything else?"

He stood there, agape.

"Good," she concluded.

She put the x-rays back into the envelope and threw them at him.

"Class dismissed. Have a nice day."

***

"You expect me to believe that you figured out she was a secretary with... _this_?" he said, grabbing some kind of instrument.

_Who does he think he is?_

She slapped his hand so he'd drop it.

He was probably trying to rattle her cage. Get her to lose control. He seemed to be the type of man who liked to be on top. Sexually, too. She was not going to let him. Ever.

"With all this information," he continued, circling the table, "how do I know you're not the killer?"

_Enough!_

She planted herself in front of him.

"Listen up. For the last time. And I will speak sloooooowly. Either you accept my findings and catch the killer, or you go back to high school to get the credits you need to get into college and get a doctorate in forensic anthropology. Then we can discuss."

He snorted.

"You're unbearable. I hope you have a great imagination too, because you're gonna spend the rest of your life alone by alienating every human being less capable than you."

She raised an eyebrow and brought her shoulders back.

"As a matter of fact, I do. I'm currently thinking of writing a book."

_Oh, my God! That freaking pompous tone!_

He just laughed it off.

"Right. Well, I can't wait to read it," he told her. "I have trouble sleeping. If it's as fun as you are, it will probably help me a great deal."

***

Booth walked in quietly, not to scare her. Ok. Maybe _she_ scared him a little with her intellect and her detachment from everything. Plus, watching her, lost in her contemplation of the skeleton... He wasn't sure how he felt about that. Was it sexy? Was it disturbing? Disturbingly hot?

"Look, I'm sorry if I offended you by not trusting you implicitly, even though I don't know you, but I take my job seriously and..."

"I'm not offended. Though you _are_ wasting my time by making me repeat everything twice. It's noble for you to try, but my expertise is obviously too complex for you to begin to grasp."

She had actually taken his breath away. And not in a good way.

"You are a judgemental..." _Bitch. _"... person. You think you're so much better than everyone else!"

"I _am_ better," she corrected him.

He took a step closer to her.

"You're just as human as all of us, Bones."

"Don't call me that!" she hissed between her teeth. If he didn't watch it, he would end up in the hospital.

He stepped closer again.

"Why not? I like it. _Bones._" He let the nickname bounce on his tongue. He leaned forward, near her ear, and as his hand landed on the table, it was met by hers, pushing it off.

"I said stop."

"Why, Bones?"

She couldn't help herself. Her hand took off, and before she could realize what was happening, the clapping sound made her palm sting. She had slapped him.

"Ow!" he yelped out, completely surprised.

Slightly shocked by her own visceral reaction, she pretended it was all calculated.

"Sorry. It looked like the only way to shut you up."

"You assaulted a federal agent!"

He wanted to laugh, but he really was pissed. And impressed. That was some slap!

Her heart was stomping in her chest. Probably induced by the confrontational setting of the situation. Not because her body was responding to his very stunning physical attributes. She was not some giggly 20 year-old, for God's sake!

"Oh, get over yourself," she told him. No. She was not speaking to herself.

"You know, just because you use long and boring words and quote the encyclopaedia in Latin every 5 seconds, it doesn't make you fascinating. Just plain annoying."

She looked him right in the eye. Like she was going to let some suit intimidate her.

"And just because you know how to use your charm smile and your big badge to get a table in a restaurant, it doesn't make you important. There's plenty of you out there, and only one of me."

"And you know why?" he immediately retorted. "Because God is merciful!"

She laughed out loud like he just had said something funny. He was not being funny, he was being mean!

"Ok. We can argue about the religious matter some other time. I have work to do."

"Oh! Am I stopping you, Bones?"

He almost flinched after calling out her new permanent nickname. One slap a day was enough.

She took a deep breath.

"My name. Is. Dr. Temperance Brennan." She narrowed her eyes. "Maybe you need to call me _Bones_ in a vain attempt to make you feel superior, Mr. Special agent, but..."

He shut his eyes to prevent his brain from exploding.

"Cut the crap, will you?" he interrupted her. "What's this about?"

"What?"

"Why are you so worked up, all the time? You forgot to take your meds?"

Her hands turned to fists. She dug her nails into her palms.

"You..." she groaned.

"What?"

"I can't stand you! And I'm pretty sure you can't stand me. Although I have seen you look at my ass on more than one occasion."

He opened his mouth, probably to disagree, but she didn't let him.

"I can't wait for this investigation to be over so I never have to suffer you ever again."

"Then do your damn job and help me close the case!" he yelped, raising his arms.

"Then stop harassing me and quit arguing with all my findings!"

They both tried to catch their breath, stuck in their first real staring contest.

How could such an insufferable person be so gorgeous? Weren't scientist supposed to be... unappealing?

***

She was about to shut down her computer when she caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye.

_I thought I was done with this clown._

"What are you doing here?"

He smiled as best as he could. _Aw. She's so charming._

"I came here to ask you if you wanted to grab a beer to celebrate."

She filled her bag with random things from her desk. Like she'd actually go out with him after the hell he had put her through this week.

"Celebrate what?"

"We closed our case!"

Not even a dash of enthusiasm on her part. Just a plain,

"She's still dead. There's nothing to celebrate."

She fastened her bag on her shoulder.

"We caught the killer," he offered.

She reached behind him to grab her coat. He had no intention of moving by himself, so she pushed him aside.

"_You_ caught the killer. You wouldn't let me come along, remember?"

"I told you! I didn't have proper authorization for you to partici..."

She was already out the door.

_Why are you chasing after her, you moron? She wants out. Let her go. Good riddance!_

"Aw, come on, Bones!"

Her feet stopped moving. Her eyes closed in frustration.

"Don't..."

"Sorry!" He honestly was. This time. "It won't happen again."

She turned around to face him.

"You know, you would have caught him sooner if your incapacity to accept the facts handed to you hadn't stalled you."

"Yeah, alright. Next time, I'll trust you right off the bat."

She laughed out loud.

"There won't ever be a next time. Bat or no bat."

"At last, we agree on something."

There! She was standing still!

"So! You coming?" he asked again, clueless as to why.

She tilted her head and studied his features.

"Why would you want to spend any more time with me?"

He remembered a little thing called 'pride'.

"... Hey. I'm not gonna beg you, ok? You don't want free beer, fine. I was just being polite."

It was his turn to go and hers to follow.

"You don't strike me as being the polite type. And I thought you didn't like me."

His laugh was clear. It resonated through the empty lab.

"Oh, I don't like you." He spun around to look at her. "But you are strangely fascinating."

***

She rarely went out with coworkers. Not that Booth was a co-worker. But she had no idea how to converse with that man. She should have asked Angela to come, too. Why hadn't she? _Because you wanted to be alone with him. _She took a long sip. _Yeah, right._

"Here." Booth brought 2 shot glasses and set them in front of them, at the bar.

"What's this?"

"Tequila!" he almost shouted excitedly.

She watched him sit down next to her. Close to her. Too close for comfort. Yet, she was not uncomfortable.

"I don't really like Tequila," she informed him.

"No one likes Tequila," he said.

He handed her a shot glass and took the other.

"To our first and last case together."

He raised his so she raised hers.

"Cheers," he said, clinking it with hers.

She swallowed its content without coughing. It went straight to her head. She breathed out heavily the fire burning her throat and slammed her empty glass on the bar, eyes tightly shut together.

"You ok?" Booth laughed.

"I'm fine."

When she opened her eyes, he was still gazing at her. She avoided his stare because his smile was making her lips want to reciprocate. Like it was contagious. This man was an enigma.

He was still looking at her, she could feel it on her skin. She took another sip of beer and pretended to look around. She wracked her brain to find something to say.

He spoke first.

"Did you grow up in D.C.?"

"Not really," she evaded. "You?"

"Nope."

She played with a stranded pretzel on the table. She counted to ten, trying to find something to say. She usually could speak about any subject. Yet, she couldn't find any, the way her heart was thumping, distractingly. She had to ask. She pushed her beer bottle away and turned to him.

"Why did you invite me here?"

_Good question._

"We have nothing to say to each other. At all."

"I told you. I was... being polite," he said.

"It's because you intend on sleeping with me, right?"

Booth chocked on his drink. She watched him cough up.

"What?! No! Wh... I don't want to sleep with you," he lied.

She waited until she knew he was breathing normally again and continued.

"Then why are you sitting so close to me?"

He looked at their legs, practically touching. He desperately felt the urge to scoot over, but he didn't. Instead, he sat even closer. Until their knees touched.

"You afraid you won't be able to resist me?" he asked in a provocative voice that was so not his own.

"Yeah. I'm a bundle of burning desire," she said, wanting to sound nonchalant.

She put distance between them.

"You know, _I_ figured you out," he let out.

"Really?" she asked, tentatively.

"Yup."

He took a sip.

"Do tell," she said, resting her elbow on the bar and her head on her fist.

"You feel threatened by me," he explained.

Her laugh made the corners of his lips rise into a discreet smile.

"If I feel threatened, as you say, then why am I here?"

"I didn't say you didn't enjoy it. It's probably the most excitement you've had in a long time."

Her smile vanished. She didn't have time to give him an exposé on the very fun and fulfilling life she led. She decided to rise above it and ignore him. After that comment.

"You're an ass," she said.

_Yup, you are._

They remained quiet for a while again.

_Back to square one. _

_Why am I staying here?_

Until the basket of fries he had ordered arrived in front of them.

She went to take some, but he pulled it towards him and looked at her like she was insane.

"Hey!" he exclaimed.

"What, you're gonna eat all that by yourself?" She raised an eyebrow, doubtful.

"I've got a big appetite," he confirmed.

A smile he would have qualified as naughty drew itself on her lips as she brought her face nearer and nearer.

"Oh yeah?" she whispered.

And his breathing stopped.

She took a handful of fries and sat back, laughing.

"You. Are _so_ typical! The stereotype of a stereotype, really."

The tamed lighting gave him a chance to feel embarrassed without her really noticing anything.

"You just took me by surprise," he claimed.

She smirked. _Sure._

He had to get out from under her microscope.

"For the record, I never looked at your ass," he told her.

_I knew it!_

She shook her head slowly. "That's all you can think about, isn't it?"

"Sure. Because all men are pigs. Right?"

She sat up straighter.

"I'm not a prude. You don't have to pretend you're not sexually attracted to me."

"Me!? _You_'re the one who's been drooling since the minute we met."

"I'm sorry to hurt you oversized ego," she apologized, "but you are not my type."

Booth snorted.

"Of course I'm not. I'm not a lab rat."

But just for the heck of it, he drew closer.

"I'm not interested," she reasserted, short of breath. She wondered if she had just licked her lips.

His arm was against hers on the counter now. His nose, less than two inches away from hers. She didn't mean to look at his lips. She didn't recognize her voice as she almost whispered,

"Even if you get on top of me, I won't be tempted. You might have a charming exterior, but no amount of alcohol is gonna make me forget how insanely conceited and puerile you..."

His lips crashed onto hers as his hand cupped the back of her head. She almost instantly darted her tongue out. His was already there, waiting. She fully tasted his lower lip first, then moaned as he breathed out in her mouth, bringing her head forward. As they mutually deepened the kiss, her hands found his thighs and her fingers dug into them. He softly brought his hand to her cheek and caressed her jaw once with his thumb before pulling away. Breathless.

_What the hell was that, Booth?_

She looked down and slowly took her hands off of his legs.

"I thought you said you didn't want to sleep with me?" she quoted.

She sounded so pleased to win that argument. He couldn't let her. No matter how right she was.

"Oh, I don't," he swore. "It looked like the only way to shut you up." He could easily have stopped there. But he had to go and screw them up before they had even started. "You don't come off as cold when you don't talk."

That's how he ended up with beer all over his face and shirt.

"Oh. Sorry. Was that cold?"

And she was out of the bar.

Out his life.

For a few months at least.

* * *

TBC

So... uhm....... what did you think? Did I take this too far? You want more? Anything you say, I'll try and do.


	3. Reasonable Doubt

**A.N.:**** This is sooo dedicated to Julie. (which, btw I miss a bit. WHERE ARE YOU? You so scared of losing that bet, that you had to dig a whole a bury yourself in it??)**

**And to those of you who took a second, 57 times, to let me know you liked it. I LOVE YOU! Hope you'll still love me after this. **

Chapter 3  
REASONABLE DOUBT

"Did you see his face?" Booth asked to break the silence they were in, waiting for the elevator to get out of there.

"Yes. He didn't seem to want to believe us."

"He was just shocked that we weren't always perfect, that's all."

The elevator doors opened and they went in. She let him press the button because she knew how much he liked it.

Going to Sweets had served no purpose. Maybe Booth hadn't read the whole book. Maybe he had skipped the part where a trained psychologist concluded they were in love with each other. She was convinced he would have brought it up first thing. Booth did not like to be told how he felt. Especially when it wasn't true. Could it be that...

She shifted her weight on her feet and averted his eyes.

"I hadn't thought about our first case in a very long time. And... although I remember it, I can't quite believe it either."

Booth focused on the panel in front of him to put that specific night out of his head. He remembered everything. But not enough.

"I guess I... never apologized to you," he said.

She looked at him before looking down.

"You made up for it over time, I think."

He waited. She didn't, so he asked,

"Aren't _you_ gonna apologize?"

The doors opened.

"I'm sorry I threw my beer in your face," she said before exiting into the underground parking lot.

"And?" he said, following her, although his car was not near hers at all.

"And... I'm sorry I slapped you?" she guessed.

He watched her unlock her car and open the door. She shielded herself by standing behind it.

"That's it?" he pressed on.

She capitulated.

"I guess I wasn't that nice to you either."

"Nope," he smiled. It wasn't an apology, but it was close enough.

"You know..." She fumbled with her key chain. "You were right."

"Of course I was. About what? About you wanting me?"

He had meant that as a joke. Or he thought he did. But he saw her blush, and he knew he was almost there. Because Dr. Temperance Brennan was not one to blush over sexual matters.

"Well y... Back then... It was different. But I didn't hate you."

"You did a pretty good job pretending you did."

"I did feel threatened by you."

She understood how better off they were, never having slept together. They probably wouldn't have the relationship they had now, otherwise. Yet, she couldn't help but fantasize. If that kiss were any indication, it would have been incredibly passionate.

"Do you think that if w..."

He jumped on her choice of words immediately.

"You never do 'what ifs'," he pointed out.

And he was right. Of course. But...

"If I hadn't thrown my beer in your face..."

"You mean, if I hadn't acted like a giant jackass?"

"Yes. Do you think we would have..."

He interrupted her again. Why was he refusing to talk about this?

"As a very intelligent friend of mine would say, 'What is done is done and talking about it won't change anything'."

"That's what I always say!" she exclaimed. Before she realize. "Oh." She giggled. "You were talking about me."

He smiled. She went for it again, rephrasing her question so there would be no more interruptions. He was getting more and more precise with semantics which made it harder to argue with. But bluntness would always be a quick and efficient shortcut to a win.

"Did you have a sexual interest for me or were you really trying to shut me up?"

There was no point in denying it anymore. She needed some assurance.

"Yes."

It pained her not to understand at once.

"Yes you were trying to shut me up or yes you were sex..."

"I wanted you with every fibre of by being, Bones."

The wind knocked out of her, she blinked. She realized her fingers were about to start shaking. She felt a whole in her stomach as she unsteadily gasped for air. She stood there, without words, and let him look at her. He continued.

"And that threw me. Because I really did _not_ like you at all. Not even one little bit." He licked his lips. "That's why I acted like... like I did. You were right to throw your beer at me."

"Because sex needs love to be magical?"

He had rarely seen her look so vulnerable. He lowered his voice. His warm tone calmed her. Shook her.

"Because you deserve more than that."

She wasn't sure if she had heard past or present tense.

Now that he had been honest, wasn't it her turn?

"And you?"

She looked up at him.

"Were you attracted to me too?" he added.

"Of course," she dropped like it was obvious.

He swallowed a nervous laugh and shook his head. That was so... her.

_But of course!_

"So, Sweets. Do you think he will reassess his theory?" she asked.

"Who cares what he thinks?"

"You do. You always care what people think of you."

"Well, it doesn't matter, right?" He shrugged. "We know the truth."

_We do? What's the truth?_

"Yeah. You're right. We know the truth," she repeated.

_What truth? The one where he's wrong or where he's right?_

***

It hadn't left her mind at all. Not once. She could almost hear his words echoing in a loop. _I wanted you with every fibre of my being, Bones._ Every night, she went to sleep with those words, and every minute of every day, she kept flashing back to them. She loved those words. They made her... somewhat happy. But something bothered her. If _she_ kept thinking about what he had said, maybe he was too. Thinking about what she had said. And Booth was not one to be comfortable with this kind of information. She didn't want him to distance himself from her. She didn't want him to feel weird about the fact that she had once desired him. And she really didn't want him to freak out thinking –and he would be so right- that she still desired him immensely. So she decided to set things straight. Make sure he knew they were fine. Make sure they were fine.

He had decided it was time. Well, he hadn't really decided anything, but his gut was telling him it was time. And as she had told him before, he should reconcile with his gut. So he entered her office with every intention of doing just that.

"Bones, do you have a minute?"

She was standing next to her desk, like she was waiting for him.

"Booth. Yes. But I need to talk to you first," she said, flat out.

"Sure. What's up?"

She walked up to the couch, sat down and motioned for him to do the same.

He got nervous, all of a sudden, but he sat down anyway.

She wasn't sure where to begin. She bit her lips, looked at his tie. It was crooked and she ached to readjust it, but she scratched a spot right under her nose and set her hands on her own lap instead.

"Uhm... Ever since we read Sweets' book, I've been meaning to say something to you."

His heart stopped. Well, not really, but it damn felt like it. He wasn't dreaming, was he? She really was about to say it? First?

"Yeah?" he whispered, encouraging her to continue.

"Yes. Uhm... You..." She finally looked him in the eye and found the courage to go on. "You're one of the most important people in my life. Or the most important. You... I never had a relationship like ours before. I want you to know... that it is very special to me. And... I want to make it clear that I don't want anything to jeopardize that. And... Well, that's pretty much it. I just wanted you to know that. You're an amazing man. And I feel privileged to have you in my life."

Booth's heart swelled. Trembled. And burst slightly. Yet another curve ball. What was that supposed to mean? That she didn't want anything to change? And what was he supposed to say? 'Right back atcha' sounded rather bleak after that uncharacteristic speech. So he took it in and put his opened hand on her knee.

"You don't have anything to worry about. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know."

Somehow those two little words meant more to him than her previous confession. He squeezed her knee lightly.

"You wanna grab a beer?" he asked. And this time, she wouldn't throw it in his face. He just knew it.

But her features grew serious. And uneasy. _No, no, no, no..._

"I can't."

She felt terrible. And the look on his face didn't help much.

"You have plans," he guessed, fearing the worst.

"Yes."

That tone. The way she was avoiding his eyes. He understood and couldn't help a pathetic laugh. _Here we go again. _

"With Andrew," he guessed again.

"I..."

He raised his hand to stop her, shutting his eyes for a mere second.

"It's fine!" he told himself. And to bring a little more conviction into it, he smiled brightly.

She didn't buy it.

"No, Booth, really, it's just coffee!" She tried to stop him as he got up. This was not what he was thinking. Not that she knew what he was thinking, but she needed to explain. Go figure.

"I didn't ask," he finished.

She grabbed his arm and forced him to face her.

"I know you don't approve. I don't want you to think I don't care what you... think."

That sounded pretty smart, didn't it?

_She can do what she wants. Then why are you so worked up?_ Maybe she really didn't want anything to change. What they had was pretty good. It was more than good, in fact. But there was still so much more to have. And he wanted all of it.

Maybe this was a sign. Maybe she was meant to just remain his partner and friend. Because this... was too damn hard.

Before he could help himself, he told her,

"Then I won't be able to have lunch tomorrow like we planned." _I'll probably be bawling my eyes out like the sissy you turned me into._

"Ok," she said.

But he heard _So what?_, and added,

"Yeah. I have plans, you know."

She simply nodded. She didn't get it or she didn't care?

"No problem," she reassured him.

_No problem?! THAT'S the problem!_

And without thinking, it popped out.

"With Dr. Klein."

_Oh._

Finally, something flickered in her eyes.

Brennan's noted a change in her body. She got tensed. And agitated.

"The... uhm... the aquarium lady we met on the case?" she asked, trying not to sound the way she felt. Like she could forget that gorgeous somewhat evil-looking creature that had been all over her partner for the last few days.

"The _marine biologist,"_ he corrected her. "Yes."

"But..." _But what? _"She was a suspect."

"You've dated suspects before," he commented. But that was not the point. "And she's not a suspect anymore. So."

_So? Nothing. Have fun with the fish lady._ She blocked those thoughts out of her mind. Out of her mind, yes. And she kept silent.

Booth was starting to feel the aftertaste of a lie. Guilt. Maybe he had to tone it done a bit.

"It's just lunch," he tried.

Brennan's chin went up slightly.

"I'm sure you'll have a nice time," she said.

_No! I didn't want your blessing. I just... I wanted you to react. Not to sh__ut me out._

"Yup."

_Yup? What kind of moron are you, Seeley Joseph Booth?_

God! He had screwed himself bad. He could not use a woman to make another woman jealous. Especially when the latter didn't believe in jealousy. Needless to say he had no intention of going out with that aquarium lady. Ever. He didn't have to, did he?

If he thought he had broken through to her... She had just put up a new wall. She was never going to let him in now, was she?

_You're an ass,_ she had once told him.

He hadn't changed much, really.

***

Brennan was rearranging the content of her bookshelves. She hadn't realized how messy she had become. A little order would do her some good.

Angela's smile froze as she approached her best friend's office. _Oh no._ She was alphabetizing again? She put her fists on her hips.

"Put it down, Brennan," she ordered.

Book in hand, Brennan turned to Angela.

"What?"

"Put down the book and step away from the shelves. Slowly."

She enjoyed playing cop. But this was serious.

"Tell me what happened," she instructed.

"Why would you think something happened? Nothing's happened, obviously, since I have time to clean up."

Angela stole the book from her hands and raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you supposed to have lunch?"

Brennan's stomach twisted. She grabbed the book back and turned her back to Angela, tiptoeing to slide it in its proper place.

"I wasn't hungry," she mumbled.

_Here we are._

"And where's Booth?"

"Out," Brennan replied immediately.

"Out where?"

"Out there."

All the books were settled back on their shelves, so she frantically ran her eyes over her desk to find something to do.

Angela, who oozed with calm, took a seat in her chair.

"Alone?" she carefully threw her bait. She didn't miss it. Brennan shut her eyes. For less than a second, but she still did.

"With Dr. Klein."

Her friend turned her back to her again, so she allowed herself to lose her smile for a bit and widen her eyes as big as she felt stunned. She hadn't seen much of that doctor, but what she had seen was stunning. Then she relaxed. This would have been a potentially big problem if she hadn't known Booth. That strong FBI man was so in love with Brennan, it was almost painful to watch. She tried to find comforting words -dipped in subtlety- to give Brennan. But then it hit her. She let out a not-so-subtle chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Brennan asked.

"Wow." That's all Angela said before she was being insistently asked again,

"What?"

"Can't you see? Dr. Klein is you!"

Brennan frowned.

"That's absurd. _I'm_ me."

"Exactly."

The frown was not going away.

"What?"

"And Hacker... is _Booth!_" she explained, realizing –and enjoying- how insightful she was.

Brennan snorted.

"No he's not. Andrew is definitely _not_ Booth."

Angela raised her hands. _Tada!_

"_Exactly!_"

"What are you trying to say, Ange?"

Angela stood up and entered Brennan's personal space. Brennan frowned again and crossed her arms over her chest, studying her friend's features.

"You read Sweets' book and suddenly, you both have dates?"

"I admit," she started, averting eye contact, "that _his_ timing is peculiar, but I, on the other hand, started seeing Andrew _before_ Sweets showed us his book and stopped seeing him _after._"

Angela grabbed her shoulders.

"You're not with Hacker anymore?"

"I never really was... We had coffee last time and I told him I didn't have time for him anymore."

_So delicate._

"Does Booth know?" Angela asked.

"He said he didn't want to know."

"Oh, trust me. He wants to know."

_Too bad._

Brennan got away from Angela and walked to the other side of her office. To breathe.

"Well, it's none of his business, really. And maybe I will tell Andrew that I cleared up my schedule." _If Booth has time to date... I can to._

Angela tried really hard to not crack. But she just couldn't leave it at that.

"You two are bringing denial to a whole new level, you know that? It doesn't even make sense anymore. Unbelievable!"

And she fled out of there before doing any real damage.

-------------

**TBC.**

**For those of you who know my style, you know you don't have to worry, right? You just have to bear with me and review a bit so I know I didn't lose you.**

**For those who are freaking out and about to take me off alert, please give me another chapter. It'll be SOOOO worth it. I have a plan. I'm not going blind, here, ok? :) There you go. Settle down. Good. Ok... now review.**


	4. Misleading Evidence

**A.N.**** This is your reward for reviewing like maniacs : ANOTHER FREAKING CHAPTER !!!! Thank you SO MUCH, you have no idea how relieved I am. (please continue!)**

**Now, please let the record show that most of my dialogues were already thought out, typed and set aside (in an outline) before I wrote this... so if you recognize some elements discussed on FanForum.... well I SWEAR IT'S A COINKY-DINK. (that, or I'm psychic)**

Chapter 4  
MISLEADING EVIDENCE

"Keep your hands off of my things!" Brennan spat out, slapping his hand away from the equipment.

"Hey! You touch my stuff all the time!" he cried out.

Angela, Cam and Hodgins, forced bystanders, looked at each other.

"Oh! Like you let me touch your siren? I don't think so."

Couldn't they realize how incredibly dirty they both sounded?

"Because the siren is not a toy!" he grunted.

"Oh! And a five hundred thousand dollar scanning electron microscope is?" she bit back.

"Well, not when you say it like _that_..." he mumbled.

"Kids, that's enough!" Cam cut their bickering short.

"Aaaaaanyway..." Hodgins dragged out. "I ran mass spec on the paint we found on the victim... Dead end."

"Well, we had to try something," Cam commented. "Ok, what's next?"

"No, I mean," Hodgins interrupted. "it was _Dead End, _the name of the paint color. Actually, Angela found it. It has a unique chemical signature."

Brennan was bored, which bothered her. She had never been bored with a case before. She took a glance at Booth. He was flattening his tie. She looked back at Cam, who was listening to Angela explain how she was running a wide search on the companies that sold the paint.

They talked about that freaking paint for what seemed like eternity. And she wondered why she was still standing there. She had plenty of work to do. She looked at Booth again, about to ask him if he needed anything before she went ahead and lost herself in Limbo. He was still touching his tie. Maybe he was fishing for compliments. It _was_ a pretty tie, after all.

"Nice tie," she told him.

He turned to her.

"Oh!" He flattened it again. "Thanks. Catherine gave it to me."

_So? I give you ties all the time. I even found your precious belt buckle online. And it took me forever, too._

She snorted.

"What?" he asked her.

She looked at the tie. Yeah, it wasn't _that_ nice. The color was wrong for him, anyway.

"She doesn't know you very well, does she?"

"Why?"

She semi-pouted, semi-grimaced. Then raised her eyebrows, looking down at it.

"Meh."

She shrugged.

He got the message.

"You just said you liked it!"

_Right. Uhm... _

"I was being sarcastic," she replied.

And she excused herself out of the room.

***

"Does it..."

"SHHH!" he shushed her loudly.

She glued her lips together and looked around –not that she could see anything- to make sure everything was still quiet.

She lowered her voice to a whisper and asked again, without him rudely interrupting her this time.

"Does it have to be so dark?"

"Yes," he replied right away. "We don't want the suspect to know we're waiting for him in his office, do we?"

"I guess not."

"We don't."

His elbow brushed with hers. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It made it worse. He had to stop wearing that aftershave. _Control, Brennan. It's not like you haven't felt like this before. _She tried to scoot away from him a little bit. It was not an easy task. The bench they were both sitting on was awfully small.

"Can you sit somewhere else?" she bluntly asked.

She heard him chuckle.

"What, like on the floor? No thanks. But you go ahead."

"Never mind."

She was being ridiculous. It wasn't his fault.

"What, am I bothering you?" he pressed on.

Had he just touched her thigh on purpose?

"Yes," she admitted.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said. Even she could hear the overwhelming sarcasm. "Do you wanna be left alone?"

"I said _never mind_," she hissed between her teeth.

Not that she was psychoanalyzing herself or anything, but she was probably feeling so vulnerable (_or stimulated_) because he was dating someone. This was only her primal instincts kicking in. She was feeling territorial. Nothing to be ashamed of, really. Just nature. She thought she was evolved enough to be above all this, but apparently, she wasn't. She was just as human as everybody else. At least, that's what she told herself. Never mind the fact that she had felt that pull towards him for over 5 years. Or 6. She had learned to accept it, let it slide, not dwell on it. She had learned to know him and they had grown closer and stronger. And all of that for what? So he'd be ready to date a scientist?

His leg was pressed against hers again.

"Booth... Come on!" she whispered, completely annoyed and confused. Angry with herself, she tried to put some distance between his body and hers.

"Would you stop fidgeting!" he warned her. It was so dark he couldn't even see her face.

"I can't!" she confessed.

"What's going on with you?" he asked, starting to feel concerned.

"I'm..." No. She couldn't tell him. He would freak. "Maybe I should stay in the lab more, from now on."

"You're kidding, right?"

She didn't respond. She tried to concentrate on the door, hoping the suspect would enter soon so they could get out of there.

"Bones, I know you. And something's going on. Why won't you just tell me?"

_FINE!_

"I'm feeling aroused."

She didn't really see his face, but she knew what it was like. His mouth was probably hanging open, his eyes widened in horror. This was not the time nor the place. Not that it ever was.

"Huh? By _me_?"

"Of course. There's no one else here."

He took a moment to catch his breath.

"Wha... Who _says_ stuff like that? Are you drunk?!"

"SHHH!" she shushed him in return. If she wasn't allowed to raise her voice, he wasn't either.

He remembered where they were and what they were supposed to do. But he still had no clue where that had come from.

"Did I do something to get you... uhm..."

"Excited?" she proposed.

He choked on his saliva. She had to stop that.

"Are you saying stuff like that on purpose?"

The tension was slowly dissipating. She felt a smile creep on her lips.

"I admit that I take great pleasure in seeing you squirm."

"..." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "So you were joking."

Silence answered him.

"You were _not_ joking."

She sighed.

"Look, I'm sorry I embarrassed you or made you feel uncomfortable. But I asked you politely to sit somewhere else. I didn't mean to cross your stupid line."

"My what?"

"You know. The line you drew a long time ago."

"My line's not stupid," he retorted –for lack of anything else to say- on the defensive.

"I know," she admitted.

He heard her take a deep breath. He added,

"Plus, it's not _my_ line. The line was there. I just... highlighted it."

Something had changed between them. Right? She wasn't imagining things? She turned to him, trying to make out his features despite the darkness.

"Well... Is it still there? The line, I mean."

He took his time before answering.

"It should be," he said, evasively.

"I agree. Vehemently. But... is it?"

Suddenly the office door cracked open and they both jumped up, startled.

The lights went on.

"Todd, my man!" Booth yelped, flashing his badge. "Just the suspect we were waiting for!"

The man froze, like a deer caught in headlights, then started running. But Booth was faster.

Brennan stood there, amazed as always, and watched as her partner cuff Todd's hands behind his back.

When Booth wanted something, he always ended up getting it. Always.

***

It was his fault. He had broken them. So, technically, he should be the one to fix them. She really hoped he could. Boy, had she changed. Putting hope in psychology. But she had no idea what else to do. And she had to do something.

"You know what this is about?" Sweets asked her.

"No. That's why I'm here. So you can explain."

"See..." Sweets sighed. He was in way over his head, now. He should never have published that book. Now he felt it was his duty to help them at any given moment. And he had no idea what to do anymore. "If you two weren't so afraid I was right, you wouldn't be reacting that way."

"But you said..."

Sweets interrupted her by raising his hand.

"Look, we can talk about it all you want, but, at the end of the day, it's not about what I say. It's about what you feel. Now, you're scared, and I get that..."

It was Brennan's turn to interrupt him.

"Why do people say I'm scared, all the time?"

He ignored her.

"You both know I'm right."

Funny how he kept talking to _them_ even if she was here by herself.

"And now that it's out in the open, you can't ignore it any longer without the other figuring out you're ignoring it."

He really liked hearing himself talk, didn't he?

"I'm confused," she confessed.

"I know." _Me too._

"You're whole concept is irreversibly flawed," she told him for the 100th time. "We're not ignoring anything. We've proved you wrong. We're both... dating other people."

She waited for him to refute her statement, as he normally did. But this time, he didn't.

"Wouldn't it be easier, faster, and way more efficient to just talk to Booth about all of this directly?"

"I can't," she said. "We argue incessantly."

"You always do."

She shook her head.

"It's different. We can't even talk anymore. It's like we're back six years ago."

Ok, so maybe they were getting somewhere. At last.

"And what did you and agent Booth have in common six years ago?"

"Nothing!" she let out. "That's my point!"

Sweets tilted his head.

"Think again, Dr. Brennan."

She did.

"A physical attraction," she finally said, avoiding the psychologist's eyes.

Now, she had never been ashamed of her sexuality, but... Talking openly about it with the boy made her feel somewhat uneasy.

"And what conclusion can you draw from that observation?"

He saw right away that she understood. Well, that she had understood _something._ He doubted she had gotten his underlying point.

_I should have become a musician like I wanted to. This job is __hard!_

***

"Sweets says Booth and I fight because we are consumed by sexual tension."

She didn't look at Angela's face. It's not like she was asking for her opinion. Yet, she waited for her friend to put her two cents in.

Angela continued her drawing with Brennan hovering.

"Ange?"

"Well..." _What do you want me to say?_ "What do _you_ think?"

Brennan put down the statue she was holding when she realized she was fondling it. She sighed.

"I know that he's right about _me,_" she said. Then she had an interesting thought. "You broke your vow of celibacy because you were acting crazy, right?"

_Thanks._

"I guess," Angela replied, unsure she wanted to know where this was going.

"Maybe I should sleep with Andrew. He never asked openly, but I know he wants to."

"NO!" Angela jumped up before she could stop herself.

"Oh, he does. All the indicators are there. Trust me."

Angela's mind was racing. This could not be happening. After all the progress her clueless best friend had made. No.

"No, I mean..." _Think. Fast. _"Celibacy's good for you once in a while." _Quick! _"I think you should give it at least six months. _At least_."

Brennan looked at Angela's work.

"I have been sexually inactive for more than that already, Ange."

_It's no wonder my hormones are out of wack._

_Damn it! What do I say... Come on. You can't let that happen. Booth would even the score with that doctor. Or kill Hacker. Not really, but still..._

"I meant, six months... _into_ the relationship. Before you..." ..._ruin everything..._ "give it up."

Brennan pursed her lips... and nodded slowly.

Angela watched the anthropologist leave, wondering if the crisis was averted. It wasn't any of her business, really. But it was a damn interesting business to run.

***

Angela peeked inside Cam's office and found her at her desk. She cleared her throat. As soon as her boss looked up, she dropped the bomb.

"We've got a situation."

***

Sweets' head spun up.

Did no one ever bother to knock anymore?

Angela waited for Cam to come in and slammed the door. Through the window, she saw a woman, startled, dropping a ton of folders.

"I'm sorry!" she said through the door.

Sweets turned off his handheld recorder.

"Come in," he said for no reason. "Have a seat."

"No, thanks," Angela spat out. She looked... furious. As for Cam, well, she just stood in the back, arms crossed. She didn't look like she wanted to be there.

"Er... Is there a problem?" he tried.

Angela laughed. And not a happy laugh.

"You could say that."

"What?"

Angela looked at Cam, who motioned for her to go ahead. She did.

"You need to stop rationalizing everything for her," she said.

"What are you talking ab..."

"Oh, cut the crap," Angela shut him up.

Sweets closed his mouth.

_That lost puppy look is not gonna work on me._

"Because of what you told her," Angela explained, "Brennan is thinking of sleeping with Hacker to relieve the tension between Booth and her."

"Well, _that_'s not going to work!" he laughed.

"You don't say!"

His laugh died quickly. Angela was one scary woman when she wanted to be. And right now? She really, really wanted to be.

Sweets swallowed as best as he could. And then, he defended himself.

"She misinterpreted what I said. I only suggested that..."

"Well, stop suggesting. Stop implying. Stop playing with them. You've had your fun."

And on that note, the artist turned on her heels and headed out. Cam gave him an apologetic, discreet smile. Sweets waved, stunned and sorry.

Reaching the elevator, Angela allowed herself a sigh of relief. _That felt good._

"If I may ask... Why did you need me to come with?"

"Moral support," Angela said.

"You didn't look like you needed moral support. You crushed him."

"Not for me. For him."

"Ah!"

They got in the elevator.

"You really think she will sleep with Hacker?" Cam asked.

"I think I bought them three more months, give or take."

"Three months? Is that gonna be enough time?"

"With Brennan and Booth? Who knows!"

-----------------

**TBC...**

**Let the fun begin! Next up: Brennan's had enough with that fish lady. She **_**might **_**speak up. And that **_**might**_** lead them somewhere delicious. If you review. **

"_**What **__**are you trying to do?"  
"Blackmail them."  
"Blackmail your devoted readers?"  
"Yes."  
"They don't like it."  
"I'm fairly certain they're not supposed to. They just have to deal with it and review to get what they want. HA!"**_


	5. Under Contention

**A.N.**** Wow, you reviewers are on fire! And so am I apparently... you didn't even have to wait 24 hours! **

"**You're right. I'm awesome." (hahaha just kidding!! I'm not **_**that**_** conceited yet.)**

Chapter 5  
UNDER CONTENTION

"Bones! Check this out!"

Brennan slowed her pace as she entered her office.

"What are you doing on my computer?"

"Waiting for you."

She tilted her head and aimed her index at her desktop.

"I have private documents on there," she pointed out, throwing her bag on the couch.

"Relax, I was just using the Internet. Plus, you wouldn't keep personal stuff in your _work_ computer."

"How would you know if you didn't look?"

"You just wouldn't. Now, come and check this out," he said again, waiting for her to get over herself and comply.

She sighed. Another lost battle. She walked up to him, with every intention of standing behind him. But she realized, at the last second, that this was _her_ desk. _Her_ chair. She pulled on his arm.

"Up, up," she instructed.

He didn't whine about it and let her sit.

"What am I looking at?" she asked.

"Hold on..." he said, leaning over her right shoulder. Her eyes closed as her stomach quivered. His right hand took control of the mouse. When his left hand landed on her left shoulder, she stopped breathing, afraid he would notice she was almost panting, and let a shiver run its course down her spine.

"What is this, Booth?" she almost whispered.

"You'll see... just... here."

He clicked once on an image and a video started playing. She didn't have time for this. So she made the time and started paying attention. It looked like some random short documentary about elephants. She had no idea Booth liked elephants. She turned her head to him, puzzled.

He motioned to the screen.

"Just watch, would you?"

So she did.

A woman was being interviewed. '_Every elephant that comes here searches out someone that she then spends most of her time with.'_

She went to turn to Booth again, but he probably saw it coming, because he gently pushed her chin so she would stick her eyes on the computer.

So, the video was about some kind of elephant retreat. And how all the elephants found another elephant to be 'friends' with, as they said on screen. But there was one elephant who didn't find anyone, so it was stuck with a dog. And apparently, they were 'inseparable', which Brennan highly doubted. But the video went on. And she let herself believe the story she was being told.

One day, the dog got injured. And for three weeks, the elephant stood guard and waited outside the clinic where the dog was being treated. Every day for three weeks.

They showed a clip of a veterinarian bringing the dog outside to see the elephant. The reunion made Brennan's eyes starting to sting. She blinked a few times and willed the nonsense away.

The narration found its way to her insides. _'They harbor no fears, no secrets, no prejudices. Just two living creatures who, somehow, manage to look past their immense differences... If they can do it, what's our excuse?'_

The video ended. She blinked again to make sure she wasn't crying like every one of the 3,427,155 people who had watched this. The number was written beneath the video.

"Are you crying?" Booth asked, mi-concerned, mi-proud of himself.

"Of course not."

He watched as she tried to hide it. And she raised an eyebrow.

"It was cute," she said, detached and a little too high pitched.

His eyes dropped to her arm. –And no, they did not linger on her chest. Which was showing. A lot.- He slowly ran his index finger on her forearm.

"You've got chills," he said, tilting his head and looking straight at her.

"The temperature in my office is..."

_Whatever!_

"It was good, huh? An elephant and a dog, best friends. That amazes me."

She smirked.

"It was interesting," she admitted. "They obviously benefit from each other. It's a beautiful demonstration of a biological interaction called mutualism."

Booth's frown could not be missed. His lips slightly parted, he shook his head.

"Haven't we _just_ watched the same video? They said nothing about biological mutism or whatever thing you just said."

"But it is!" she insisted. "By associating with the elephant, the dog gets shelter and protection, among other things. It's no wonder it follows the pachyderm around all the time."

"They're friends, Bones! Best friends. They love each other."

Was he ever gonna get through to her?

"Animals don't have _friends_, Booth."

She saw that his jaw clenched. He was probably grinding his teeth. Her tongue passed quickly on her lips.

"Ok. Let's say you're right..." he stated.

"I _am_ right."

"What does the elephant get out of this?"

She thought. And thought. Turned to the screen to remember... Nothing.

"... Then perhaps I was wrong," she admitted.

"Ah ha!" He raised his arm in victory. Too soon. She wasn't done.

"Perhaps it was commensalism, where one benefits from the other, whose unaffected by it."

"The elephant's got _somebody_, that's what he gets!" he forced fed her.

"You're highly emotional about this documentary, Booth."

"You're so..." He lifted his hands, like trying to grasp the air and his hands turned to fists. "Gahhh!" he let out, beyond frustrated.

"What? I said it was a beautiful, didn't I?"

"But you had to go all technical and scientific and..."

"Cold?" she suggested.

Booth didn't hesitate long.

"To be honest? Yes. That was a little cold."

She would not let her eyes fill with tears. She would not. Her nose started to tickle. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold it in much longer.

"Well, that's just how I am," she said, as dryly as she could.

Her eyes were shimmering. It should have softened him up, but he just... It made it worse. She _felt_ but she couldn't admit that, could she?

"And what's it called when two living creatures both get _nothing_ from the relationship?" he asked right away. Pissed as hell.

"Then it's not a relationship," she confirmed.

"Clearly."

And on that mumble, he was out. Disappointed. So deeply it hurt. That's how the old Dr. Brennan would react. His Bones was past all that, wasn't she? Was he really back to square one?

Brennan watched him leave. A dull wave washed over her. She held in a shark intake of breath. She _was_ cold. That was just her way. Her chest tightened. But for _him_ to say it out loud? She couldn't breathe. A cold person wouldn't react that way. She wasn't cold. She wasn't. She exhaled and tightly sealed her eyelids together for a second. It didn't stop her eyes from welling up. _Damn it._

"What happened?" Angela butted in. "Are you crying?"

Brennan didn't have time to do or say anything. Angela was already next to her.

"Why are you..." But her question died on her lips when she looked at the screen. She laughed, relieved. "Well, no wonder you're tearing up! This is one of my favorite videos! Did you see the one where a monkey adopts a kitten?"

Brennan mindlessly shook her head 'no'.

"Here. Let me. I'll find it."

"Some other time, Ange, ok? I should work."

"Sure!" Angela backed up and examined her friend. "You ok?"

"Yup."

_Yeah, right. _

"Ok... Here's the 3D rendering you needed. It doesn't tell us much, but you should give it to Booth."

"Thanks," she said, taking the CD from her hands.

***

When she glimpsed at the clock, Brennan jumped. It was past noon. Had she really spent all her morning going through a bunch of sometimes sappy, sometimes disturbingly funny videos? It really was fascinating... She just couldn't quite grasp the determinism of the 'related videos' section.

"Dr. Brennan, Booth's asking for the ID report," Cam said, passing in front of her office. "He's being briefed and thoroughly annoyed by Hodgins on the platform."

"Be right there," she said.

_Crap. _She hadn't done the report. She took an empty folder and inserted a few random sheets in it. _There. _

When she reached the platform, Booth was rolling his eyes at something. Hodgins seemed to be ranting. She heard the word 'government' and stopped listening.

"Booth," she said. When she arrived in front of him, she noticed she was nervous. Because of this morning. She hoped he was willing to pretend, as she was, that nothing was wrong. "I'm almost done," she said, holding the fake folder up. "But I still need a few minutes." _About 180 of them._

"As long as I have it by tonight," he said. "They want to release the identity of the victim on the news as soon as possible."

"No problem."

He nodded.

Waited.

She nodded.

Waiting.

Hodgins escaped discreetly. He didn't need to witness yet another staring contest.

Cam arrived and decided to wait a little bit before swiping her card to the platform.

Brennan wracked her brain to find something to say. Some platitude, some small talk material. Anything to get them back on track. Maybe if she asked him about himself or...

"How's Dr. Klein doing?"

She hadn't meant to. She really didn't want to know anything about it. It had just... popped out.

"Great," he said, as precise as ever.

"Great," she echoed. "Andrew's great, too." _Not that he asked._

"Great."

Cam had had enough.

"Hey!" she said, climbing the few stairs. "Why don't you all go on a double date?"

Cam was great with sarcasm. But they had no idea she was using it now.

"No," Brennan said faintly.

"NO!" That one was from Booth.

They had answered at the exact same time, but Brennan turned to him, chuckling. _That was weird._

"Why such a 'no'?" she asked.

"You said no, too."

"I'm just curious as to why you yelled yours..."

"I didn't _yell_," he argued. "It's just a ridiculous idea."

_I couldn't agree more,_ Cam thought. _Though it'd be hilarious to watch._

Brennan tilted her head and squinted.

"You afraid I would crap your style?"

_Crap my... Oh!_Cramp_ my style. _He laughed on the inside. Really.

"Something like that," he said.

"Are you hungry?" she tried after a few seconds of more awkwardness. She had to get started on his report, but she could squeeze in some fries.

"Can't. I have plans for lunch. I'm sorry." He really was. There were few things he loved more than having lunch with her.

Brennan didn't even need to ask who he was having lunch with. Her gut knew. And her gut didn't like it. Lunch was _their_ thing. And he had said it himself, what went on between them, that should just be theirs. Right? Was there a double standard?

"Are you going to the diner?" she asked anyway, dreading his answer.

"No. Some fancy French place," he grimaced.

She felt better. Slightly.

"You should order a_ Brandade de morue,"_ she said with her best French accent.

"What's that?"

"Cod-fish."

He laughed out loud. Somehow he doubted a marine biologists would appreciate that.

She smiled, proud of having successfully made him laugh. It had been a while.

She went to the computer on the platform and printed out all the data she needed for the report.

Meanwhile, Angela arrived and joined Hodgins, who had come back, and Cam.

"You can't be serious," Brennan heard Angela whisper.

"I thought he was making it up," Cam said.

"I can't believe he let her come _here_," Angela continued.

Brennan knew, deep down, who they were referring to before she even turned around to see her for herself. Dr. Catherine Klein. In _her_ lab. That wasn't right.

"She's so hot," Hodgins said.

But that granted him two deadly set of stares and a slap on the chest.

"Sorry!" he said. "Just the impartial observer."

Brennan could have sworn her blood was boiling. She watched as Booth and that woman left the lab. At a respectable distance from each other, but still. She couldn't take it. She walked as fast as she could to her office.

Angela grabbed the sheets Brennan had left in the printer and followed her, after a look towards Cam. _I'll take care of this._

When Angela entered, Brennan was pacing. All over.

"This doesn't make sense," she said.

"I agree. She shouldn't have set foot in here."

"No, not that. Me."

Angela dropped the papers on her desk and sat on the couch.

"What do you mean? It's _your_ lab, Brennan. You just don't let random people come and go as they please."

"She's not random. She's Booth's... She's not random. It shouldn't bother me."

"But it does."

"Evidently."

Brennan sat down, too. _Let's look at this objectively. Or not._

"Maybe it's because I'm not used to him dating. Or him talking about it. Or flaunting it in my face."

_You've flaunted first. And often._

"But I'm not comfortable with the idea of Booth dating Dr. Klein." There. It was out. "She seems off to me. You know? Something's just not..." And there she was, trying to justify everything. She looked at her best friend, begging for help. "I don't understand why it bothers me that much. This isn't me."

"Never mind the reason, Brennan. The important is what you feel, not _why_ you feel it. Just... be upfront with him. Tell him, straight to his face, that you don't want him to date her."

Brennan shook her head.

"I can't. He... I got angry when he told me not to date in his pool."

_Huh?_

"I can't just tell him what to do," she concluded, still considering it. And again.

***

Brennan had wasted 14 minutes searching for a parking space before going into the Founding Fathers. All of her co-workers were there, at the bar. She walked up to them. She was nervous. She still wasn't sure she would do it. Asking him to break it off with Dr. Klein seemed so wrong... But it felt right. So she hadn't decided.

"Here you go," Booth said, sliding a beer in front of her.

But she didn't thank him. She ignored it.

"Can I talk to you?"

Apparently, she had made up her mind without even knowing it.

Taken aback, Booth turned to her, ready to listen.

"In private," she added, looking around. Yes. They were all staring at them. Angela gave her an encouraging nod.

Booth got up and followed her as she went outside. She halted beside the bus stop and turned to face him. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. He had never heard her voice sound this weak and uncertain before.

"I would feel more comfortable if you didn't see Dr. Klein anymore."

_There. Go crazy._

Booth chuckled. _This is so good._

"So... I have no say in whom you're dating, but you can just... tell me what to do?" he inquired.

Of course there was no logic to that. She spoke again, apologetic.

"I was just expressing... what I felt. I didn't think it through."

"That's unlikely..."

Ok, he had made his point. She was acting like a fool.

She walked passed him to go back inside.

"Fine!" he said to stop her from running away again. "I won't date her," he promised.

She frowned.

"Just like that?"

She took a few slow steps towards him, searching his face for an explanation.

"Yup. Just like that," he replied.

Brennan reflected.

"... She won't be happy about it," she pointed out. _And you hate confrontation. Though you are excellent at it._

"I'll deal with it. I'll tell her... there's plenty of fish in the sea. She'll understand."

Brennan laughed.

"That's funny! Because she's a marine biologist. So using a fish metaphor is..."

He was staring at her, smirking.

"But you know that. That's why you said... Ok. Well..." She stared at her shoes. _That was easy._ "That's settled then. Thank you."

She looked at him. _I can't believe that worked._ She turned around to leave. He caught her arm, let his hand travel down it and grabbed her hand to pull her back to him.

"You don't want me to date _her_ or you don't want me to _date_?"

He let go of her hand as she looked at him, completely surprised.

"I can't ask you to stop dating," she stated.

"Sure, you can," he told her, shrugging.

Their eyes wouldn't let go of the other.

_Is this a trap?_

"Wh... You... And you wouldn't date. Ever? W...hy?"

"Because you would have asked me not to."

She took that in, though she didn't know what to do with it, and let it sink it.

_Just to be clear..._

"If I ask you to jump off a cliff, will you do it?" she wanted to know.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you would miss me too much," he stated, like it was obvious.

He left her there and walked towards to entrance of the bar.

"Aren't you gonna retaliate by asking _me_ not to date?"

"You do whatever feels right, Bones!" he said, going in.

She watched the door close behind him.

What had just happened? Why was she disappointed he hadn't asked her to stop dating?

She wanted him to ask her.

How's that for crazy?

* * *

**TBC of course...**

**So? Ready for some soon to come real action? And not in a Jackie Chan kinda way. **

**This time, I won't blackmail. I felt bad. Really. So I'll just... pout. Here. Do whatever feels right.**

**And here's the link to the actual dog/elephant friends video if you aren't one of the ****3,427,155** **people who've seen it already: (you tube) .com/watch?v=cBtFTF2ii7U**


	6. On Whom the Burden Rests

**A.N.**** Thanks again for so much feedback! **

**Alright. So to be honest, (I'm **_**not**_** fishing for reviews –although it would make me feel better-) I'm freaking out a little about **_**this**_** specific chapter. It's a little out of my comfort zone... and I really hope you still think it's believable.**

Chapter 6  
ON WHOM THE BURDEN RESTS

"So, are you gonna make a move or what?"

Booth, who was returning to his desk coffee in one hand, donut in the other, stared back at them blankly. They were all gathered around. Cam, Angela, Sweets.

_What is this?_

"Who gave you permission to come in here?" he asked, rudely.

"I work for the FBI, too, agent Booth. I can come and go as I please."

"No," Booth said, a little threatening. "You can come and go and _I _please. And right now, I don't please. So... out. All of you."

"No."

He blinked, surprised. Has the boy finally grown a spine?

"Look, Booth, we just wanted to see if..." Cam started.

"If you were ever gonna move your ass and tell her," Angela brilliantly finished.

"Tell her what?"

They didn't buy it.

_What you should've asked is '__Tell _whom_ what'. _

They kept staring at him like they were all expecting something.

"Can I drink my coffee first?" he asked.

_Sure, make a joke, big man._

"I think it's time, Booth..." Cam told him in a calm voice.

He burst out in laughter. _Un-freaking-believable!_ He shook his head and put down his coffee, because he didn't want to waste it by throwing it on them. And he laughed again. _No. Way._

"You can't be serious," he dropped.

He took a step towards them. And magically, they all took a step back.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me!" he continued, a little more aggressively. "Let me get this straight."

He pointed two fingers at Cam.

"_YOU_ told me to wait. _YOU_," he barked, pointing to Sweets, "told me it was all in my _head_! Then you publish your crap and tell her _for _me, and NOW, you think it's time? And _YOU..._"

Now pointing to Angela, he stopped.

"You actually never told me anything. But it's still none of your business. So my question is," he asked them all, "what the _hell_'s wrong with you, people?!"

"We wanted to make sure you wouldn't hurt her unnecessarily," Sweets explained.

"Sure! 'Cause, you know, my main goal in life is to break her heart."

"We just didn't want you to make a rash decision," Camille argued.

"A rash decision?! I've been in love with her forever!"

Their faces lit up like he were Santa Claus and they all smiled at each other.

"Well, there you go!"

"He's got it."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

And they left him with a half squeezed donut in his hand.

***

Paperwork was done. Tai food was eaten. _Now, Booth._

He opened his mouth...

"All done?" he asked. He cursed himself for being such a retarded coward and took the chopsticks and the container she was holding before she even had a chance to respond.

"I guess so..." she laughed, watching him throw it out.

"So... uhm... my brother's wedding is this weekend," he finally started. He was still staring at the garbage, but it was better than nothing. _Oh, just spit it out already!_ "And I was wondering if you'd like to go."

He turned to her, desperately waiting for her to say yes.

"Jared and Padme already invited me," she informed him, sucking the tip of her fingers, making his throat hurt. "I even got my own invitation in the mail." She smiled broadly.

He cleared his throat. Took a step forward.

"No, I mean... I'd like us to go. Together."

She took the only container he hadn't thrown out and dropped it in the garbage. Now standing in front of him, she replied,

"Of course. I don't see the point of taking two cars when we're attending the same reception."

_Damn._

His eyes dove into hers.

"Bones... you're not listening. I'd like you to be my date."

Her heart somersaulted. _Relax. That terminology is common. It doesn't mean he wants to _date. She couldn't look away.

"What would that entail?" she asked to make sure.

Caught off guard, he staggered.

"Well..." He let out a chuckle. "Uhm..."

He felt pretty calm, considering. He thought he'd be more nervous than he actually was. He had imagined himself turn into a puddle of goo on the floor.

"Normal date stuff," he described. "Like... you'd be dancing mostly with me..."

"I would more than likely do that anyway," she let him know.

"Right. Uhm..." He wracked his brain. How could he put this? "Oh! You wouldn't be allowed to go off with some man or... hook up with some guest." _Hook up? Seriously?_

_Well, that sounds simple enough._

"Alright," she agreed.

"Good!" _Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? You can breathe now. Remember how?_

He watched her assemble all their paperwork, like if nothing majorly earth shattering had just happened.

_Are you sure she knows what just happened? Are you even sure it happened?_

Brennan grabbed her purse, trying to make her smile grow smaller. _Stop it,_ she told herself. _It's just a stupid wedding .It's just like for Angela's non-wedding. He had asked you then, too. _

She was pleased anyway.

***

She opened the door and held on to it to steady herself. Booth in a tux. Breath taking.

He nearly gasped out loud. Dark blue dress, low... low cut... with some beautiful necklace type thingy holding it in place. Her hair loosely up, gently emphasising the sexiness of her neck... He whistled over-loudly so she wouldn't notice he had almost died.

"You look amazing, Bones."

The low register sincerity in his voice made the back of her neck tickle. Well aware that she was uncharacteristically blushing, she murmured a thank you and ... Yeah. She curtseyed. Just a bit.

"And you look..." Her eyes got lost in their exploration. "... quite dashing." _Or deadly sexy._

She unwillingly tore her eyes from him.

"Let me just grab my bolero," she said, trying to regain some composure.

He gazed as she turned around. He had no idea what a bolero was, and he didn't care. That dress had no back. The fabric ended just above her... He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to discreetly loosen the tightness that was starting to form in his rented pants.

She turned around again, facing him. He held out his hand to help her put it on. Though, in the back of his mind, something told him putting anything over that dress was probably a sin.

"Here."

She thanked him and handed him her purse instead. He silently chuckled.

"Shall we go?" she asked, already out the door.

He followed her. His eyes dropped to the purse he was carrying. He should have made it clear right away that he had no intention of being her personal purse-holder all night.

***

"Angela was really happy to get an invitation. She loves wedding receptions."

"That's why she tried to land and overlap two husbands..." Booth said.

She couldn't help but laugh.

"Jared thought it would seem rude to just invite Cam, so he invited the whole lab," Booth went on.

Brennan did her best not to feel disappointed. Booth must have sensed it, because he added,

"I still would have asked you to go with me." He tightened his grip on the wheel. "Since we don't have many family members worthy of being seen in public, his side of the church is mostly made of friends and very distant cousins."

She itched to ask about his father, but she knew him deeply well enough to keep her mouth shut.

"Pops will be there, though. He says he can't wait to dance with you," he spoke up again, glimpsing at her.

Booth was being very talkative. She looked at him, examined him. He seemed... uptight. She looked at his hands.

"You're interphalangeal joints are turning white," she noted.

"What?"

"Your..." She touched her own hands, as if to remember the correct term. "... knuckles. They're white because you hold on to the steering wheel so tightly. Why are you so tense? You're not the one getting married."

Booth let out a chuckle.

"Oh, it's worse, believe me! You can't even imagine all the stuff I had to do: Rent the tuxedoes, organize the bachelor party, attend the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, make sure I had the ring, write a decent speech, get my brother to church on time, go back home and change, pick you up..."

"I could have met you there, you know," she said.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're the best part of this awful day."

She titled her head, as if it would help her understand.

"But you love weddings!"

"Just because I believe in marriage doesn't mean I _love_ weddings," he mumbled.

She looked outside the window. She could see the church.

"Well, you can relax," she told him. "The book says the best man needs military precision to do a great job and, well, you've got that for sure. So, you have nothing to worry about."

He frowned and took a quick glance at her.

"The _book_?"

_Whoops._

"... _Being the Best Man for Dummies,_" she admitted.

His eyes got a little bigger.

"You _read_ that?"

"I saw it at the library," she said, in her defence. "I was just curious."

He drove into the Church parking lot, chuckling and shaking his head.

"What!" she let out, sounding annoyed, feeling embarrassed.

"I didn't say anything!"

He parked the car and they both got out.

Brennan froze a little bit. All these people gathered in front of the church... She didn't know any of them. She tried in vain to spot Angela or Cam. She calmed down as soon as Booth linked his arm with hers. She didn't feel out of place anymore.

As they approached the guests, they both heard the familiar voice of an old man.

"Well, at least I get to see _one _of my grandsons tie the knot before I die!" He was talking to three women.

"Pops!" Booth let out, as a warning.

His grandfather turned around and shouted,

"Shrimp!" And he saw Brennan. "And Dr. Beautiful! Come here."

He hugged her so close, Booth had to pull her back a little. His hands were still on her hips when Hank spoke again.

"Well, well. The kid was faster than me on this one. I never thought he would ask you to accompany him before I had a chance to."

She smiled.

"Had I known the original Booth was available, I never would have said yes."

Hank looked around them. Searching.

"Where's Parker?" he asked.

"With Rebecca. He says weddings are stupid and boring."

"Well..." Brennan started. "He's not completely wro..."

Booth put his hands on her bare shoulders to make her stop talking. She did. She felt one of his thumb brush back and forth the skin of her neck. She couldn't have talked even if she'd wanted to.

"Don't you have a brother to calm down or something?" Hank asked.

"Right." Booth looked down at Brennan, letting go of her shoulders. "I have to find Jared. Uhm... You'll be alright?"

"She's in good company. Stop worrying about her and go do your thing," Hank dismissed him. He linked his arm with hers, as Booth would do, and walked her inside the church. She turned to Booth one last time. Their eyes locked. She smiled and mouthed a 'good luck'.

***

After the ceremony, they arrived at the hotel for the reception. That's when Brennan saw Angela and Cam for the first time.

"Hey," she greeted them. "I didn't see you at the church."

"Oh, we were in the back," Cam said.

"We saw you with Booth's grandfather."

"Yes. He fell asleep during the ceremony," Brennan told them on the tone of confidence.

"Awwww," Angela squealed as if it were the cutest thing ever.

"But he doesn't know that I know, so..."

"No, of course!" both of them promised, pretending to zip their lips together.

Hank arrived right then. Brennan told him they all worked with Booth.

"So! Which ones of you stunning ladies slept with my grandson?" he asked loudly, feeling no shame.

Angela was taken aback, about to laugh. Cam died a little bit on the inside when Brennan and she indiscreetly pointed to her.

"That's it?!" Hank barked. "What's wrong with that boy?" he mumbled, walking away to take his seat at a dinner table.

"Wow," Angela mouthed.

"I feel special," Cam laughed.

"You should," Brennan let out. Special meant singular and unique, and she was. Why were they both staring at her like she had just revealed something extraordinary?

"Bones! There you are!"

Booth made his way through the guests. He looked... somewhat determined.

"What did you do?" Angela asked her.

"I don't know."

Before she could ask him what was wrong, he grabbed hand and pulled her away. And away. They were now out of the wedding reception area.

"Where are we going?" she asked while he still led the way.

He pushed the bathroom door. She frowned.

"I don't have to pee..." she said. He nudged her inside, came in too, and shut the door. Turned the lock.

"Why are you locking the door?"

She watched him as he made sure there was no one else in there with them. And finally, he looked at her.

"I forgot my speech."

_Oh._

"Well... didn't you write it down?" she tried.

"Yes, but I forgot it."

"Ok. Calm down. Uhm... Give me your keys, I'll go get it for you."

He shook his head. He was freaking out, clearly.

"There's no time. Dinner's about to start and I have to make a toast and..."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, really wanting to help, but at a loss as to how.

He put his hands on her bare shoulders again and let them slide to the side of her upper arms.

"You like speeches. They're like your thing now. You can help me."

She shook her head.

"Booth, you... You're good at this. You can do it. Just... stop thinking and... say what you feel. He's your little brother."

"I don't want to let him down," he murmured.

She laid her palms flat over his chest and looked him in the eye. Though his heart started racing, he felt calmer. He covered her hands with his and breathed out.

"You can do this," she said again, pushing on his chest once.

He nodded slowly.

***

"Growing up, Jared and I..." Booth started, glass raised. All eyes were on him. But he could only feel hers. Reassuring. Confident. "... we never had a very... solid example of how great marriage can be. And so I'm really happy and deeply touched that he never turned into a cynic. He still believed in love. And today, he's making everyone around him believe. He managed to step up. Be a man, and make that beautiful woman fall in love with him. I mean... she's clearly not after his money," he joked, and everyone laughed. He turned to Jared. "I'm proud of you, little brother. To _Jarhead_ and Padme. God bless you. And may your kids look like her."

Brennan raised her glass like everyone else through the laughs. She couldn't tear her eyes away from him, caught in his stare.

***

"You may now join the bride and groom on the dance floor," the DJ's voice resonated, amplified by the speakers.

Brennan felt the urge to down her drink. All the loving couples around her made her feel dizzy.

"I officially _hate_ weddings," Angela said, taking a seat next to Brennan, who turned to her, surprised.

"Why?"

"I can't find one single man in here."

"One of Booth's distant cousins was gravitating around you half an hour ago..." Brennan pointed out.

"And I still don't believe he's related in any way to Booth. Did you see that guy? Tiny hands, tiny feet, huge nose..."

"Don't blame the lack of male prospects," Brennan said. "Blame your pernickety side."

"My _what_ now?"

"You're too picky," she explained.

Angela laughed out loud.

"Right. Coming from the woman who's got the perfect best man attending to all her needs."

_All my needs? I don't think so._

"Do you wanna dance?" Booth asked her.

She turned to her right. He was there, offering her his hand.

"What did I tell you?" Angela laughed before leaving.

Brennan turned to Booth again.

"Angela's feeling down. Maybe you should dance with her," she suggested.

But Booth took her hand anyway.

"Cam's got it covered," he said, motioning his chin so she'd look behind her.

Angela and Cam, seemingly more than tipsy, were slow dancing together.

She followed her partner to the dance floor, trying to slow down her brain and her heartbeats. She actually stopped thinking for a second when he took her wrists and wrapped her hands around his neck. He let his own hands travel down her naked back. She took in the wonderful sensation and focused her eyes on his necktie. And they swayed to the music, trying to ignore the magnetic pull between them, trying to maintain a safe distance between their bodies.

Maybe the alcohol helped him slightly. Because as soon as he breathed in to try and relax, as soon as her delicate and bewitching scent tickled his nose, he pulled on her lower back and pressed her against him.

She caught his gaze as he pulled her close and her eyes flew shut. Without a thought, she buried her face in him, her forehead against his neck. And breathed him in on purpose. Her fingers moved ever so lightly that she wasn't even sure they were moving. And she touched his hair. She felt him pull away a little and when she looked up to him, he was staring down at her, lips parted. She felt him take a deep breath, his chest against hers. His fingers gently, sensually, stroke up and down her spine, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps. They weren't dancing anymore. They weren't even moving. Under a spell she recognized from having experienced many, many times with him before, her eyes dropped to his lips.

"What's this new dance move called, Shrimp? The 'Chicken Stare'?"

The tension broke as easily as it had formed. Their bodies jerked away from each other. Brennan looked at the floor, and bit her lips before looking at Hank.

"Let me show you how it's done," he said, pulling her hand and twirling her around.

She laughed out loud as Hank turned into Fred Astaire.

***

"The bouquet toss grew out of a 14th century European idea that brides and everything they touched were lucky. Guests would literally chase after brides in an attempt to tear off parts of their clothing just for the possibility of getting good luck," Brennan explained to Angela.

"We're not gonna shred her dress to pieces, Bren. It's just a fun tradition. Come on!"

But Brennan wasn't moving.

"Booth, please tell her she _has_ to. I don't want to go alone!"

Brennan turned to Booth, frowning. How was Booth asking her the same thing Angela just did get a different response from her?

"Come on, Bones. Do what people do. Stand behind the bride, scream like a maniac and pull the hair of anyone who tries to steal the bouquet from you."

"You're not helping, Booth," Angela said.

"See? Even Booth thinks it's stupid."

Booth put down his glass, shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to face the dance floor, where single ladies were gathering.

"Oh, I didn't day it was stupid. I'd really like to see you fight over some flowers."

Angela was going to hit Booth. But before, she got Brennan to look at her.

"Look, I'm just asking you to stand beside me. What are the chances of you catching the bouquet anyway, huh?"

"Judging by the fact that they all seem really drunk? I'd say pretty good," Brennan said, sighing. "Fine, I'll do it." And before Angela could make a high pitched noise, she added, "But I won't try to catch it."

Booth watched them join the horde of drunken females and chuckled to himself.

The bouquet toss music started. A wave of frenzy shook the small crowd, skipping over Brennan, who was just standing there, hoping it would all be over soon.

"You ready?" Padme asked them, getting excited giggles and screams thrown at her. She turned her back to them and started the countdown. "One..." She swung the bouquet back once. "Two..." Twice. "Three!" And let it fly back.

_Of course. _

She didn't even gasp. She just stood there, while everyone around her whined their disappointments. Some guests clapped their congratulations. She just stared blankly at it. Of course she had to be the one to catch it.

Angela was still laughing when they got back to the bar where Booth was waiting for them. Brennan saw him open his mouth and just shot him a threatening look.

"_Don't_ say anything," she warned him.

"I wasn't going to." He was dying to laugh out loud. He pursed his lips and ordered a glass of bourbon. As soon as the bartender gave it to him, he slid it towards her.

"There."

"Thanks."

She downed it in one gulp.

He leaned in and chanted softly in her ear,

"You're getting married next."

She slammed her glass on the bar, shuddering the alcohol taste away.

She was about to go with the usual, 'I'm never getting married.' Or the 'It's just a stupid, meaningless tradition kept to entertain a restless crowd of lonely women...' But she looked down at the bouquet she was now holding. And his gaze came and locked with her eyes.

***

She discreetly watched him. He was staring at his brother and his new bride who were whispering into each other's ears, giggling. It didn't make any sense, but she could almost feel his longing.

"You're gonna have this too, one day."

He felt her hand on his arm. He instantly covered it with his.

"How do you know?" he asked as she typically would have if the conversation had been reversed.

"Because I know you," she simply said. She looked at the newlyweds. And then, as she imagined Booth in Jared's shoes... it dawned on her. As much as she wanted him to be happy, she didn't want him to have all this. She really didn't want to stand there, one day, looking at _him_ that happy. Which meant she was a horrible person.

"Are you ok?" Booth asked, seeing how lost in her thoughts she appeared to be.

"Yeah," she tried to smile.

He leaned in closer.

"What is it?" he whispered.

Her eyes were shimmering.

Her throat was closing up.

"You'll make a very good husband," she huffed.

How did she manage to shake his insides every five seconds? He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to make her understand. He wanted her to see.

But he chose the easy way and simply made a joke. Teasing was so much easier.

"Well, I'm not the one who caught the bouquet..."

***

"You ready to go?" Angela asked her.

Brennan had spent all day on this cranial reconstruction. She'd do the rest in the morning.

"Yes. Are the others coming, too?"

She never used to care what her coworkers did after work. But she had grown to like having them gathered together in that bar at least once a week. She felt like she was part of something.

"They're already there," she answered. "And judging by Hodgins' text message," she continued, looking through her cell phone, "already half tipsy. Booth is teaching Sweets how to play darts."

Brennan laughed, shaking her head. That could easily take a turn for the worse.

"Hey, so, what time did you get home after the wedding?" Angela inquired. "I lost track of you sometime after 2 a.m."

Brennan fastened her bag on her shoulder and turned off the lights of her office, following Angela out of the lab.

"Around... 3, maybe? I don't really remember."

"And... did you two make any further plans?"

Brennan frowned.

"What?"

_Fine, I'll spell it out!_

"Did Booth ask you out again?"

"Well, were supposed to go to dinner, but I had to work on the skull, so I told him we'd grab drinks with you all afterwards. Why?"

Angela stopped walking, so Brennan turned to her.

"Is there a problem?" she asked.

_I can't believe I'm the one who has to break it to her._

"Honey... you're dating Booth."

Brennan laughed out loud, but her laugh dies out quickly.

"What? No!"

Angela kept silent.

"I'm not dating Booth."

"Yes, you are."

Brennan sighed. So the artist gathered some undisputable evidence.

"You two are not allowed to date other people," she said, keeping count with he fingers.

Brennan interjected.

"I am! He never asked me not to." _Which means, we are not dating. Booth would never date a woman who dates other people._

"But are you? Dating other people, I mean."

_Busted._

"No..." she lingered. "But it's by choice!"

"It's _always_ a choice, Brennan." And she continued to present the evidence. "You attended the wedding together..."

Brennan stopped her again.

"We're _always_ together, Ange. How's this even remotely relevant?"

"And after you caught the bouquet, which, by the way, you said you wouldn't try to catch, I saw the way you looked at each other. You were thinking of marrying special agent Seeley Booth, and how easy it would be."

Brennan had to laugh. She just had to.

"I was not!"

Angela stuck to her theory, letting Brennan out to fend for herself.

"Ok, so according to you..." she started, "if Booth and I are dating because we grab drinks, have dinner and look at each other..." She locked her eyes with Angela's. "Then I guess, you and me, we're are dating, too?"

Angela wasn't fazed at all.

"You can argue all you want, sweetie. Doesn't change a thing. You and Booth are dating."

* * *

**TBC...**

**Are they dating? Are they not? Find out next. **

**It'll be funny. Sweet. Fluffy. Awkward. You want it? You come and get it.**

**There was a little less BB moments in this one, but in the next, I make up for it BIG TIME. So stay with me.**

**And I hope you won't dump me as soon as I put them together... I might have one or two chapters in me after I make them become official... so... just tell me in advance if you're not interested!**** So I can stop thinking of stories to tell.**


	7. Degree of Certitude

**A.N. :**** Here I give you my _favorite_ chapter ever. Read it ****slowly**** as it took me forever to make it everything I wanted it to be. Treat it right and review as you will :) It's not the last chapter, but I think you might enjoy it. My only wish is to make at least ONE reader feel everything Brennan feels inside. Tell me if I succeeded. Or if I was way off.**

Chapter 7  
DEGREE OF CERTITUDE

They had arrived at the bar thirty minutes ago. And Brennan was still thinking about what Angela had said.

She looked at Booth again. Sweets hadn't killed anyone with the darts yet. Booth was a good teacher. Booth was an incredible man. _This is your third drink in half an hour. You need to slow down._

"You're drooling over your new boyfriend," Angela whispered in her ear.

"Stop!" She was being serious. "It's not funny."

Angela apologized. "I'm not making fun of you."

"We would make absolutely no sense as a couple," Brennan stated.

Angela didn't want to push it, but she did anyway.

"Well, you make no sense as friends, honey, but guess what? It totally works!"

She was still staring at Booth. He saw her and waved at her. She waved back. She sighed.

"I love us. I don't want us to change."

"You'd still be the same people, Bren."

"I know."

But did she?

Hodgins came in between them to grab some pretzels.

"Hey! What's the difference between an..."

"We're talking," Angela stopped him.

"I know. Can't I talk to?"

"Are you a woman?"

"Oh. _That_ kind of talk. Yeah, I'll pass..."

He disappeared somewhere in the back.

Angela turned to Brennan again.

"You're just s..."

"_Don't _say it!" Brennan pleaded.

"... Scared," she finished anyway, slowly, and raising her eyebrows to induce Brennan's silence. "And it's completely normal. It's a natural response. I know that anthropologically, fear helps prevent death or something, but... Loving Booth?"

Brennan's eyes flew shut at the words. Her stomach clenched. Angela lowered her voice.

"It won't make you disappear. Or him. _Especially_ not him." She took a pretzel out of the basket. "And it took me a while to figure that one out, so... you're welcome." And she put it in her mouth.

They heard Sweets yelp and Booth burst out in laughter. Brennan looked at him yet again. That man was so... She had no right to...

"How can I be sure about this?" she asked Angela, not really expecting her to come up with a perfect answer.

"Well, I hardly think you need to be sure to..."

Brennan interrupted her. She _had_ to be sure.

"I'm no good with relationships. I suck at them, in fact. I can't screw this up," she explained, her eyes going back and forth between her partner and her best friend. "I don't want to do this unless I'm sure I will never break his heart. He looks big and strong, but... he's... He deserves better."

Her confession broke Angela's heart. The love she had for Booth was palpable.

"What you're saying is that he deserves better than you. But you won't let him date anyone else. How's that fair to him?"

"It's not," Brennan huffed in a sigh.

"No. It's not."

"Hey, Ange! You gotta see this!" they heard Hodgins yell from somewhere.

Angela looked at Brennan. Everything had been said. The rest, she had to do on her own. She squeezed her friend's hand and went looking for Hodgins.

Brennan's heart started racing as soon as she saw Booth coming her way. She turned around so he wouldn't notice she was still staring, mindlessly took a pretzel and scratched the salt off.

He sat beside her. She was about to do something she really didn't want to do. But she had to be fair. She had to remain grounded. Logical. Rational. Something she missed terribly.

"I'll call Dr. Klein. I'm sure she'll give you another chance."

Booth slowly turned to her. _What the..._

"Huh?"

Maybe he had misunderstood. Yeah, he had to.

She tried to be clearer, ignoring the dull ache in her chest.

"It was utterly wrong of me to ask you not to see her. I can... I can fix this. Just... give me her number."

Her cell phone was out. She was being serious?

He frowned and almost laughed.

"I don't want to see her. There's nothing to fix."

Ok, so maybe she had screwed this up more than she originally thought. She could still mend the situation. She just had to... uhm...

"Then... How about that blond at the end of the bar?" she said, pointing –even though she knew it was rude to point. "I spoke to her earlier. She's clearly not a doctor, but she seemed... fun."

Booth didn't even remember how to breathe. She had always been weird, but never that ridiculous.

"Bones, what are you doing?"

"I'm... You should..." Her hands must have started shaking because she dropped her phone on the floor. "Crap." She got up from her stool and kneeled on the floor to find it.

"Bones... what..." He kneeled on the floor too. He found her phone before she did and handed it to her. She took it and forgot how to say thank you when their fingers touched. She quickly broke all skin contact and stood up straight, almost bumping her head under the counter. She glared at him, determined.

"I had no right to demand that you put your life on hold for no other reason than my own personal, selfish comfort."

There was nothing else he could say other than,

"My love life has been on hold forever, Bones. You didn't even have to ask."

What did _that_ mean? He couldn't possibly be happy that way. It made no sense whatsoever. And if Angela's theory had been exact, he would have told her he didn't want her to date either. But he didn't care. Which meant they were not...

The thought was still hanging half processed in her head when the words came out of her mouth.

"Why didn't you ask me to stop dating, too?"

That question sank them into a deep and thick silence.

She let him look at her the way he always did, like he was trying to read her. Like she was the most interesting book ever... in Chinese. Selfish again. She sighed, desperately, uncomfortably awaiting his response. She shifted on her feet. Most people's brains didn't work as fast as hers did, she knew that, but why was he taking so long? She was just about to retract the question when he spoke.

"You never do what people ask you to do. You always do what you want."

"I do what _you_ ask me to do. I think. Most of the time. You could have asked."

"I thought it would be best for me to just... I couldn'task. I can't ask. All I can do is _hope_ that you decide on your own that you don't _want_ to date."

She took a chance and let him look into her eyes.

"So... you _don't_ want me to date," she clarified.

"For my own personal, selfish comfort? No."

Ok. So. They were both _not_ dating. Other people. Where did that leave them? Was Angela right? Was Angela... Where _was_ Angela? And Hodgins? And Sweets? And...

"Where's everybody?" she asked.

_Who cares?_

_Who the hell cares?_

Her stomach tightened again. She had been alone with Booth countless times. Why was she freaking out? She looked down at her watch.

"Wow. It _is_ late. I should go."

She grabbed her bag.

Booth grabbed her wrist, lifted it up and took a glimpse at her gold Rolex.

"It's 11," he laughed.

"I have trouble sleeping after midnight. I should get home."

_Since when?_

He didn't ask or stop her. Because she planted a kiss on his cheek and ran out the door after a 'See you tomorrow'. He stood there, stunned.

She slammed the door of her car.

_You _KISSED_ his cheek?! Since when?! Damn idiot!_

***

People kissed on the cheek all the time. Friends did. French people, too. They were partners. It shouldn't be weird for them to kiss on the cheek. Why was it? Because the cheek was close to the mouth? So what?

She was giving herself a headache. And Angela came in, which didn't make the brain throbbing diminish.

"Anything interesting happen when we left the bar last night?" she asked.

"Not really."

Surely something must have happened. They were so close to... There was no way _nothing_ happened.

"Well, what did you do after we left?" she pressed on.

"I left too," Brennan replied.

"You..." Angela didn't care to finish her sentence. What was the point? She turned around with a big sigh and left.

She walked passed Booth who was coming in.

"You let her _leave_?" she mumbled without stopping.

Booth frowned and followed her with his eyes.

"What's with her?" he asked Brennan.

She just shrugged, trying not to embarrass herself with the words that were threatening to come out on their own. _I'm sorry I kissed your cheek. It was weird and it won't happen again. Unless..._

"We have a warrant for Gerard's arrest. I thought you'd like to come and see me get his confession."

Brennan smiled. Finally something intellectually interesting to do.

"Sure." She grabbed her bag. "But how can you be so certain you'll get a confession out of him?"

"I always get what I want. And right now, I want a confession."

***

And he did get it. After 10 pm, but still.

As they got out of the interrogation room, a man approached in the hallway. Booth recognized him. Since the first time he had seen that guy, Booth had known what would eventually happen. He always did. And, of course, he had been right. Why else would he have tracked her down after the case was over?

"Dr. Brennan, hi."

Booth saw the slight frown forming on her forehead. He chuckled to himself. _Poor guy. Never gonna happen. She doesn't remember ever seeing you before._ And slid his hand off of the small of her back and went to hide in the break room, leaving her alone with that unthreatening man.

"I just wanted to thank you for catching Remy's killer," the man said.

Brennan saw Booth disappear in the break room and tried to remember who that man was exactly. He knew the victim... But... _Who cares._

"It's my job. But you really should thank agent Booth. He's the one who actually caught the perpetrator."

"He's not the one I want to invite to dinner. Are you free tomorrow evening?"

"I can't," she bluntly, simply, put it.

"Alright. How about Saturday?"

_Make this stop._

"No, I mean... I _can't._"

"Because I was a suspect for 5 seconds?" the poor guy asked.

"Because I can't date," she explained.

"Oh." His face fell. "Of course. I should have... You're in a relationship?"

Was that a question? She wasn't sure. As for the answer to that... She looked for Booth. He was still hiding. _Honesty it is, then._

"I don't know," she replied.

That was usually a yes or no question.

"You... don't know if you're seeing anyone?" the guy repeated to make sure he had understood.

"It's..."

_... Complicated?_

_... A long story?_

_... None of your business?_

"_..._ unclear at this point."

_You're life is getting complicated. You need to set things straight. Right now. Ok. Maybe not _now_. But tonight. By midnight. You need to know .If anyone's got the answer to that man's question... it's Booth._

She abandoned to guy and his puzzled expression and met Booth in the break room.

"So! He asked you out, huh?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I recognize the longing look."_From my mirror. _"So... what did you say?"

"You wanna grab a drink? With me?" she asked instead.

It took him a second to realize she was not answering his question but really asking _him_.

Since Booth didn't respond right away, she went on.

"I know we go to that bar almost every night, but I feel comfortable there." _When I don't spaz out and kiss you on the cheek for no reason._

"Let's go," Booth said with a smile, motioning for her to go first.

***

It was almost midnight. She had been sipping the same drink for over 90 minutes, trying to remain clear headed. Wasn't working. But she had set herself a deadline and she was going to stick to it. In less than 10 minutes, she would know what the hell was going on between them. As soon as she could bring herself to ask.

Something was on her mind. Something important. She had been nursing that drink for way too long now. He decided to tease her.

"Isn't it almost past your bedtime?"

She looked at him. He continued.

"Didn't you say you had trouble sleeping past midnight?"

"You know that wasn't true."

"Yes, I do know." He leaned in a little closer. "What's wrong, Bones? You've been... weird for days now."

_He just opened the door for you. Don't you dare slam it in his face for the 100__th__ time._

"I need to ask you something," she carefully said.

She examined his eyes, his lips, his jaw, his chest, his hands... Knowing exactly what she wanted his response to be. Yet terrified of it.

"About what?" he asked.

Petrified. Stuck.

"Angela said something to me and..."

"Aw, this is never good," he mumbled.

"No, listen." Her hand was on his forearm.

He grew serious.

"I'm listening."

"Are we dating?" she heard herself pronounce. She laughed. "I know it sounds completely ridiculous." _It's not ridiculous, it's flat out insane._ "Pretend I didn't say anything. I mean... if we _were_ dating, you and I... I would know. Right? I've never dated anyone without my knowledge. It's just crazy... Right?"

Was he ever going to answer? It was almost midnight. Why was he looking at her like that? Why was he smiling? _He's probably laughing on the inside. Because you are crazy._ _Say something._

"Booth? Are we dating?"

"You tell me," he cryptically murmured.

_ENOUGH._

"No! _You_ tell me. _You_ say something! Why do I have to do all the work? I asked _you_ so _you_ have to answer. Be specific. Be blunt for once, and tell me what you want." She dug through his stare. "What do _you_ want?!"

Her eyes were shiny, filled with expectations. He could see the fear and the determination. Which made this moment even more important.

"I want to be with you," he finally admitted in one breath.

Her heart swelled. Simple. Yet...

"So, we're... dating," she concluded.

"Yes. Unless you don't want me."

"I want you!" she made clear. "I mean... I do." _That just sounds worse. _"I want to be with you." That might have been the moment she realized how much she did. It just didn't help figuring out where to go from there. Concretely.

"Well, here I am. With you."

_That was so brilliantly put, Booth_. He had dreamed and thought of this moment forever. But suddenly, he realized it was actually happening. And he had no idea what to do.

Heart pounding, she nibbled on her bottom lip for a few seconds. She was stuck in her brain. Overanalyzing. Over-thinking. She wanted to _do._ To _act._

"I never got a chance to tell you I had a great time at your brother's wedding. It was a beautiful ceremony."

"I had a great time, too."

She nodded.

"Good."

_Damn it. What now?_

Booth was helpless. He felt like he was 13. And boy. He was far from cool at 13.

"You want another drink? That one looks... flat."

"Sure."

She handed him her glass and he fled to see the barman. She breathed out. That's how she realized she had been holding her breath. Not such a healthy start. She escaped to the bathroom. Solitude. Clarity.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She looked... wow. She looked happy. Her cheeks were rosy. Her eyes were sparkly. Why did she feel like throwing up? She took out her cell phone.

_Pick up. Pick up. You always want to get involved. Now's your chance. ANGELA!_

No answer.

She breathed out loudly again. She went through the stored phone numbers on the tiny screen.

_Nope. Nope. Definitely not. Nope. Oh. Back up. Could I? Fine._

She dialled the number.

"Hello?"

At the groggy sound of the voice, it hit her. She had just awakened her boss.

"This is Dr. Brennan... I'm sorry to call so late."

She sounded alert when she asked, "Is everything alright? Did something happen?"

"No. Well, yes, but no. I just need to ask you something. Angela wasn't picking up, which might be a good thing because you are in a better position to answer me."

Silence. Maybe she had fallen back asleep.

"Dr. Soroyan?"

"Just... waiting for the question, Dr. Brennan."

_Oh._

"Right... Uhm..." _Here goes nothing._ "How do you date Booth?"

She heard a faint laugh. Then, "Well... you ask him out, I guess. Or you wait for him to ask, but it might take forever."

"No, the asking is done. Well, it was more of an understanding, I guess... But how... what do I do?"

The laugh wasn't faint anymore. It was clear.

"You've dated before, Dr. Brennan. Just do what you usually do."

_Duh._

"You're right. I'm sorry I bothered you."

"No problem."

"Bye."

She hung up, completely shocked at herself.

A normal person wouldn't have called their boss to ask how to handle a man. She had handled plenty of men before. She knew how. But Booth? They were so close already. They knew each other by heart. How was she supposed to act; what was she supposed to do differently now?

Brennan stepped out of the bathroom and went back to her seat where Booth was waiting. Waiting for her. She sat down.

"Do you think, maybe, we should keep this quiet for a while?" he suggested. "At work, I mean."

She froze and tried to hold his gaze.

"That... would have been a good idea."

"Would have been?"

She grimaced.

"Cam knows."

Surprised, Booth whispered a 'wow'. "Already? Well... if Cam knows, everybody knows."

"Yes."

Booth didn't mind. He just suggested it so she would feel more comfortable. So he would feel more comfortable. _Screw comfort._

"Are you ok with that?" she asked, unsure. "We could pretend it didn't work out."

Booth laughed.

"After 7 minutes? Come on! Give me a little credit, here..."

She giggled. And hearing herself giggle made her laugh out loud.

"It's probably better they know the truth anyway," Booth concluded.

"Right. Because Sweets always says that honesty is paramount to a well-working work environment."

"No, because you're no good at playing pretend," he explained.

She frowned.

"What? I'm excellent!" she argued.

"You stink."

She discreetly went to sniff her shirt and Booth exploded in laughter.

"No! I mean, you're awful. At lying."

"I beg to differ. I can be a very good liar."

Booth leaned forward, elbow on the bar.

"Name one time when I didn't know right away that you were lying."

She thought.

Her eyes locked on his tie.

"I did like the tie Catherine gave you."

He smirked.

"And I knew that."

She squinted, saw he was telling the truth, and tried to find something else.

"See? I'm right. You can't think of anything!"

He put this hand over hers on the counter. She lost trail of her thoughts. She could enjoy this openly, now. She slowly slid her hand from under his and started exploring his fingers with the tip of hers. He turned his hand, palm up, and she teased, tracing the lines in it. Their fingers intertwined.

She tried not to smile to broadly. She blushed.

"I bet you didn't know I thought about this for a long time," she admitted.

"How long?"

She tried to remember the first time she had imagined their hands joined like this.

"I don't know. Long." She looked up to him. "Why now?"

"What?"

She shrugged.

"We could have done this any number of times. Why now?"

"I guess we were both ready." _Finally._

"I guess you're right."

"I'm always right."

"Except when you're not."

"Right."

She smiled like a fool again. But so did he. So... whatever.

***

"I'll see you tomorrow..." he said, once his SUV was parked in front of her apartment.

The rest of the evening had gone by quickly. Smoothly. Normally. They had both managed to keep their nerves in check. Brennan didn't know if it was the same for Booth, but she had to remind herself every 5 minutes that they were dating. She kept forgetting. And every time she remembered, she wondered if she was acting the way she was supposed to act.

But this time, as she shut the car door behind her and shifted on her feet on the sidewalk, watching Booth starting to drive away, it hit her. She didn't have to refrain anymore. She didn't have to stop herself every time the thought crossed her mind and teased her whole body.

"Booth! Wait!"

She didn't have to run after the car for very long. He had seen her in his rear-view mirror. He stopped the car and saw her walk to his door. He lowered his window.

"Did you forget your purse or something?"

She pulled on the handle. Locked.

"Open the door," she ordered, out of breath.

He did.

"Now, get out."

Booth laughed.

"Wh... Is this a carjacking?"

She pulled on his arm and shut the door. They were now standing next to the car in the middle of the street. She let go of his arm.

"That's all I could think about all night... All week, really. Or... Anyway. I really wanted to, but then, every second, I kept forgetting that I actually could," she blurted out.

"What are you talking about?" he laughed out.

She finally looked him in the eye and took a deep breath. She purposely looked down at his lips and bit hers together. _Here's the feeling of stupidity again._ She smiled shyly.

"Oh."

She let out one laugh and breathed in some courage again. She felt his hand on her cheek, saw him smile and lean in. She pushed on his chest with her both her hands.

"No... _I_ wanna do it," she told him.

He let out a chuckle and brushed her cheekbone with his thumb before dropping his hand to his side.

"Go for it," he said.

She fought the urge to just _go for it._ Still incredibly nervous –hey, this was _real_- she pulled her hands up, rested her wrists on his broad shoulders and caressed the back of his neck with her fingers. She took a step forward. She could feel the heat from his body radiating through to hers. Her thumbs stroked his cheekbones once or twice while she took great pleasure in examining his dilated pupils and slightly parted lips.

"Any day now..." he begged in a whisper.

She smiled. _Not yet._ This was way too good already. She knowingly licked her lips a little too slowly. She could have sworn he groaned or moaned a little. Her bottom lip ended between her teeth as she smiled. And she leaned in, gently pulled his head closer. Their noses touched and her eyelids grew heavy to shut. She paused, tasted his breath on her and finally, ever so slowly, tilted her head and caught his bottom lip between hers. Instantly, their bodies collided, needing to get even closer. He pulled on her waist with his large hands as she exhaled into his mouth, not wanting to part. They kissed again, never really having stopped, and as his tongue darted out, she welcomed it with her own, hesitantly, wanting to make this last. Make this count. Emotions swirled into her stomach. Her hands travelled down his chest and wrapped around his lower back, pulling him as close as she could. She deepened the kiss and he felt the car on his back. She grabbed the back of his head again, slowed down her lips. She rested her groin on his, feeling his pressing erection. The jolt of electricity that went through her body shook her. And the kiss softly broke. Eyes still closed, forehead resting against forehead, breathing heavily, they were both slightly surprised, yet neither of them wanted to be the one saying 'wow'.

She opened her eyes. He was looking at her face. Taking it all in. Like she was the most beautiful woman who had ever lived. Her fingers touched her own swollen lips.

They never even saw the lights of the car behind his until they heard the furious honking. They both jumped and turned towards it.

"Do you mind?!" a man shouted through his windshield.

"Oh."

"Uhm..."

They both laughed. Her lips still throbbing, she reached the sidewalk and he got back into his car, moving it closer to the curb. Then he got out again and came back to her.

He cleared his throat first.

"I should say goodnight... before I can't," he said, burying his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, me too. Goodnight," she agreed.

She took a step back, still smiling.

That smile made his heart race again. He took his hands out of his pockets and walked the short distance between them. He grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into another kiss. Hungrier. Urgent. She instantly met his lips with her tongue and pressed his ass towards her. She rubbed herself once onto him. Pure instinct. His rapid breathing even more arousing than his scent. But soon out of breath, she broke the kiss.

"Ok," she panted. "Goodnight." And she took another step back. And another.

"Careful..." he said, motioning for her to look behind her.

She had almost bumped into trash can.

She chuckled, avoided it and kept walking backwards.

"You should... go back to the car," she suggested. "And lock the door."

"Yes. And I'll see you tomorrow."

She simply nodded, sensing the blush covering her entire face.

"G'night, Bones."

Yes. She was still Bones.

**-----------**

**TBC**

**I so hope you liked this enough to come back for the next.**

**Please? And also, if you wouldn't mind terribly telling me in great lengths (or in a few words) what you thought of this one?**

**Next up? Assistant Director Hacker wants to see them ASAP. Sweets, also. And find out which one of them is having trouble with a certain sex issue. **


	8. Benefit of Assumption

**A.N.:**** Well, if you like fluff, here you go! I tried not to get mushy. They just couldn't help themselves. Next chapter will definitely be M rated. So if you hate M-rated BB stuff... skip the update (and miss out on the conclusion of this story...) You're safe for now, though. I guess I could stop here too. Tell me if you want a M-rated conclusion or if I should leave it at that.**

Chapter 8  
BENEFIT OF ASSUMPTION

Brennan looked at the time on the bottom of her computer screen. She had arrived at work 2 hours earlier than usual, but people should start arriving soon. He would be here soon.

She heard Angela before she saw her. And when she did finally see her in the entrance of her office, Brennan lost her smile. Angela looked... mad.

"I can't believe this!" she spat out.

Was she playing mad or was she actually furious? Brennan didn't know the difference. She got up from her chair.

"Look, Angela, I know it's surprising, but I assure you there will be no repercussions at work. It..."

"What? No! That is not surprising. For anyone. I'm talking about _you_ telling Cam _before_ me! I'm hurt."

"W... I tried you first. You weren't picking up. I'm sorry?"

"You better be." Angela's features brightened up, losing the pretend anger. She squealed, threw her arms in the air and hugged her best friend so tightly she lost her breath.

"Whoa. Ok..."

Brennan patted her back, stiff as a board.

The artist put both her hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

Well, the fact that upon hearing the word, Brennan instantly tried to hide a smile was a pretty good indicator.

"You are. You're _so_ happy!" Angela stated. And she breathed in, getting teary-eyed.

Brennan looked down, chuckling, and as she looked back up, her heart skipped a beat and set a chain reaction in her insides. He was standing in the doorway, with the most adorable cocky smile on his face. He was half an hour earlier than usual. And he had brought coffee.

Angela, oblivious to the new set of ears around, started talking again.

"So! I've waited almost 5 years to finally be able to ask you... Is he as good in bed as he is in your books?"

Agape, Brennan blushed. She never should have confessed to Angela that Andy was indeed Booth. He would never shut up about it now. Ever. She shut her eyes, embarrassed, and jerked her chin once so that Angela looked behind her own shoulder.

"Oh, hey, big man! It's about time!" she said, walking up to him and kissing him on the cheek. She turned back to Brennan. "It's ok. You can answer me later, sweetie." She winked and she left them alone. Oh, but before she left, she made sure Booth noticed she lost her smile. She squinted threateningly and motioned two fingers from her eyes to his face. Twice. _I'm watching you. You better be careful._

"Hi," she greeted him softly as soon as Angela walked away.

"Hi."

"You're here early," she pointed out.

"Yeah... I thought you'd like some coffee."

_Among other things._

"Thanks." She took the one he was handing her and set it on her desk. "Is this a new case?" she asked, pointing to the folder he had pinned under his arm.

"Yes!" he said, as he had just remembered. "Body found in a pizza oven." He handed her the case file and stepped closer. And closer as she started to skim through it. He was suddenly reading over her shoulder, his cheek almost against hers. She looked towards him out of the corner of her eyes and smirked. She held the file a little higher.

"Didn't you read it before?" she asked.

"No, I did. It just didn't smell as good."

She chuckled, spun around and tilted her head.

_God, she's amazing._

He leaned in and tasted her smile. _Just a peck,_ he promised himself. But she wrapped her arms around his waist and he was a goner. Until...

"Wow!"

Sweets thought he was having a stroke.

They broke apart without completely letting go of each other and looked at him.

"What is it, Sweets? Did you want something?" Booth asked.

"I... No. Yes, but I... Wh..." He kept gesturing, like it would help him find the words.

"What?" Booth pressed on.

"What do you mean _what_? THAT! Were you planning on telling me anytime soon?" the poor psychologist asked.

Brennan looked at Booth who looked at her. She made a face, they shrugged.

"Nah."

"Not really."

Booth took back the file and made his way to the door.

"You coming, Bones?"

"Yes." She turned to Sweets before exiting. "You can take my coffee, I didn't touch it."

"Yeah, I'll buy you another one," Booth added.

"That's what I thought."

And they were gone.

Sweets looked around him, wondering what universe he had stepped in this morning.

***

"When was our first date?" Brennan asked, as they drove to the crime scene. Before he could answer, she explained. "I would hate to have missed it. Does the wedding count?"

He laughed.

"How about tonight? I'll cook."

_Whoa!_

"At _your_ place?" she asked. She sounded concerned.

"Or we could go somewhere..." he suggested.

"No. It's fine. Perfect."

She tried to smile as best as she could. Her stomach was nothing but knots. Did that mean they were going to...? They had only been dating for a few minutes, but they had known each other forever. It would be natural to... She had never been that nervous about _it. _Ever. Not even at 22.

***

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked her.

She put down the femur and circled the table.

"I doubt it. Except if you're thinking that this..." She pointed out two distinct –to her- nicks on the bone. "... indicates two attackers, one stronger than the other, than yes. We could be thinking the same thing."

She looked up to him.

"But I'm guessing that's not what's on your mind."

He just shook his head. He kept silent and gave her an enigmatic smile. That was a new smile. She had never seen that one before. She quite loved it.

"What? You want me to guess?" she asked. "Are we supposed to be... psychically linked now?"

He stepped closer until she was pinned between the table and him.

"I keep forgetting that I'm allowed to kiss you whenever I want," he said. His voice was deep. Low.

Her face lit up.

"Then we _were_ thinking the same thing," she murmured, fixating on his lips.

He leaned in, went to steady himself with both palms on the table.

"Don't! Touch the table..." She warned him just in time.

He cupped her face with his hands. She lifted her own hands away, making sure she didn't touch him with her gloves and welcomed his kiss. This would never get old.

"I didn't know bones turned you on," she said against his lips.

"How could you not know? She's always turned me on."

She tried not to laugh because she urged to deepen the kiss.

"Yup! _That_'s what I was afraid of..." Cam said loudly, joining her hands together in front of her.

Brennan squeezed her eyes shut. _Whoops._ Booth took a step back and looked down before flashing an apologetic charm smile Cam's way.

_Oh, he's good._

"I'm sorry," Brennan quickly said. "I should know better. It won't happen again." A weird sensation washed over her. She never thought she would see the day when she'd actually feel closer to Daisy. Not such a great feeling.

"It's fine," Cam waved off. "Even distracted, you still work twice as fast as everyone else. So! What did you find?"

Brennan willed herself not to look at Booth and concentrated on the remains on the table. She had no idea what she had found. Something about the femur, which she had already told Dr. Soroyan half an hour ago. She turned back to Cam, lips pursed.

Cam smiled to herself and said, "Ok! He might be more distracting than I thought..." She turned to Booth. "Goodbye, Booth."

He sheepishly grinned and headed out. He spun around one last time to mouth a silent "I'm sorry!"

Brennan tore her eyes from him to set them on her boss.

"I am really sorry," she repeated.

Cam simply smiled and tilted her head. She put a hand on Brennan's upper arm.

"You're perfect for him."

Brennan blinked and took a shaky breath as she absorbed the words and watched Cam walk away.

_Femur. Right._

***

"Did I get you in trouble with your boss?" Booth asked her as the waitress brought them their order.

"Not really," she said, taking a sip of coffee. "Everybody's in an exceptionally great mood at the lab today. Even Fisher."

"We spread the joy."

She smiled.

Booth dug his fork into the pie in front of him.

"So... since we are now officially dating..."

He held his pie-filled fork up to her mouth, his other hand under it.

She frowned and leaned back.

"I'm not going to start liking pie just to please you. I've got you. I don't need to impress you anymore."

He laughed out.

"_Anymore?_ You were trying to impress me before?"

"You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Fine." He dropped the fork in the plate and pouted. "I give up."

She sighed.

"Fine," she said. And she leaned over the table. Her lips touched his without hesitation. "You're right. Pie does taste good," she said, sitting back down.

Booth liked his lips and shook his head.

"Nice try. But I didn't even have a bite yet."

"Oh. Well, we can try again later."

And she hid her smirk behind her cup.

His cell phone rang.

"Booth," he picked up, covering his other ear.

He turned his head sideways, facing the window.

Brennan made sure he wasn't looking and dipped her index finger into his pie. He moved, so she quickly put it in her mouth. _Busted._

"I saw that," he said, shutting his phone off.

She was grimacing now. And she was not pretending. A shiver of disgust ran through her.

"Ew," she let out.

"That good, huh?"

"There's no way you're kissing me after eating that."

"We'll see," he said, taking a bite to taunt her. "We'll see how long you can hold back."

Then he remembered the phone call. And he said,

"_Assistant Director_ Hacker wants to see us ASAP."

Brennan felt like she was sinking.

"W... About? Does he know?"

"He knows," Booth simply put it.

"You told your boss?" she asked, surprised. And a little scared.

"You told _your_s..."

"I didn't call Cam to brag!" she defended herself.

"Whoa! I didn't brag. What makes you think I would brag to my boss?"

"Males tend to like the feeling of superiority." And before he could interject, she added. "I'm not offended, if that's what you're worried about. I'm just saying..."

"He said he saw it on my face, ok? I couldn't lie to him."

Brennan just stared blankly.

"Fine. I might have enjoyed the look on his face the moment I rubbed it in. It doesn't mean I bragged."

She was worried.

"Do you think... Are we in trouble?" she asked with a small voice.

"I don't know. It depends, I guess."

"On what?"

"How did you two end things?" he inquired.

She looked down at the table.

Booth would not panic.

"You _are_ ended, aren't you?" he made sure.

"Yes, of course! I..." She sighed. "In a vague attempt to spare his feelings, I might have told him I didn't have time to date."

"Oh, great. This is going to be smooth."

***

They came in, Hacker got up and gestured for them to sit down.

"I just want to clear the air first and say that there are no hard feelings on my part." He looked at Brennan. "I completely understand that you don't have time to date."

Brennan rarely felt guilty. It was one of the feelings she hated most of all. She twisted her fingers and swallowed her saliva with difficulty, trying to hold his stare, as he continued.

"I understand. You know, you're always with him anyway, so _that_'s time-efficient." He smiled broadly to the both of them. "Now, that being said, you two are not allowed to date."

Booth imagined himself, clear as day, jumping over the desk and punching the crap out of him. Just one time. Just one, time-efficient, punch. But he clenched his fists.

"What?"

Brennan's tone was a surprising mixture of softness, incomprehension, confusion and fear.

Booth quickly put his hand on her lap. _Don't worry. _And he spoke up.

"You _can't_ be serious!" He tried really hard not to get up. "You dated her first! You _cleared_ yourself to date her. How can you possi..."

Hacker raised a hand.

"No, I was kidding, of course. Come on!"

He laughed alone. Booth and Brennan, completely missing the hilarity, exchanged worried looks. Then he became serious.

"But you really should be careful. One complaint about anything work-unrelated on the job, and you'll both be reassigned. You are our best team, so, you should act like it. And you will have to continue your weekly meetings with the amazing Dr. Sweets." He turned to Booth. "This relationship has already affected your judgement, Booth. Otherwise, you'd be sitting on _this_ side of the desk," he said, pointing to himself. _Yet, I still wouldn't be dating her,_ he thought. "Oh, and I'm happy for you both." _It's not like I didn't see this one coming._

Dazed, they had to hear the door shut behind them to realize they were out of the office. They walked to the elevator. Booth let himself lose it a little.

"Where does he come off?" he complained. "Who does he think he is, forcing us into couples therapy?"

_Your boss' boss,_ she thought, biting her lips. He didn't need to hear this. She knew the sound of a rhetorical question now.

"That's abuse of power," Booth continued, getting in the elevator. He waited until she was beside him and pressed the button so they could both get the hell out of there. "Where do they all come off, telling us what to do and when and how?" Brennan looked up at him. It wasn't about Hacker anymore. "It's none of their business! I'm so sick of them all getting involved all the time!"

The elevator reached the ground floor and the doors slid open. He finally breathed out and tried loosen his tie. But his angry fingers couldn't.

She followed him, grabbed his hand and stood in front of him. She locked eyes with him. He was still trying to calm down, and looked at the ceiling before looking at her again.

She loosened his tie for him, just a little bit, and scratched some imaginary stain off his lapel before grabbing his shoulders.

"Are you ok?" she finally asked.

"Yeah. Sorry."

They exited the building. He took her hand and they kept walking. She laced her fingers through his and it felt like the most natural thing in the world for now.

"I'm the one who should be sorry," she said. "I should have been honest with him and told him the truth when I ended things."

"What truth?"

"That... I couldn't go out with him because... he wasn't you."

Booth hearts swelled. He squeezed her hand.

"_That_ would have made things worse, so I'm glad you didn't say it to him."

They reached a bench and decided to sit for a while before heading back to the lab.

Brennan stomach hadn't stopped hurting since the meeting. She recognized the acidic aftertaste of anxiety. One screw up and they were over. Everything they had built over the last 4 years and a half... gone. She could lose him. Permanently.

"Booth..."

Her vulnerability shook his insides. He turned to her. She continued.

"If you... This is serious. If you want... out, if you're having second thoughts, I won't blame you. But you should tell me now. I mean... we haven't really done anything yet."

Now was his last chance. Before her heart didn't belong to her anymore. Before she lost control of everything.

It's not like he wasn't terrified, too. She was the most important person in his life next to his son. But he wasn't going anywhere.

"Listen to me," he said, soothingly, intensely. "I've wanted in for so long... there's no way I want out. I know 'out', I don't wanna go back there. I'm sure about this. Trust me. I'm _sure._"

_Trust me._

He held his hand, palm up, in front of her.

Her shimmering eyes caressed his.

"I trust you."

And she laid her hand in his.

***

He parked the SUV in front of the Jeffersonian.

"Hey, what did Andrew mean when he said... that you'd be sitting on his side of the desk?" she asked.

"I don't know. He was just messing with us."

"No. He was serious," she argued. Booth was hiding something. "What did he mean?"

Booth let go of the wheel.

"I... might have passed on a certain promotion," he admitted. "To stay in the field."

"You refused his job?" she clarified.

"Yes, ok?"

Brennan's eyes widened.

"Why?"

"I told you. To stay in the field."

"Why would you do that?"

He groaned.

"If you say one more time that I'm afraid of success and that I sabotage myself..."

"No! I wasn't... I just... Why?" she repeated for the third time in a row.

"Probably the same reason you turned down the six-month supervising position for that dig in Greece. To stay here."

Taken aback, she forced her mouth to close.

"You know about that?" she let out.

He nodded.

She shook her head 'no'.

"It's not the same thing," she objected. "That promotion would have come with a substantial pay upgrade. And his chair looked way more comfortable than the one you have now. No offense."

He laughed.

"You know it's not about the money. I don't care about the money. Much."

"But..." She couldn't understand. "This is your future, Booth!"

"No, it's not. It's my career. Your my..." _Yeah, slow down, there, buddy._ "It's just a job."

She stared out the windshield.

"What if you resent me for it on day?" she asked.

"Are you gonna resent me for not going to Greece?"

She turned to him again.

"I _told_ you, it's not the same thing."

"But it is! Bones, you _love_ your job. You said it yourself that it was your passion to dig up freakishly old skeletons. Yet, you picked _me_ over _them._"

She had nothing to add. He was right. She had picked him. Just like she had when offered the possibility of sailing around the world with Sully. She had picked him. And he had picked her. Were they crazy?

He put his hand on her thigh.

"You still coming over for dinner?" he asked softly. "Around 7?"

Her gut flipped. Her heart raced. His touch brought on a familiar warm and tickling sensation that woke up certain parts of her anatomy. Longing. Urging. Wet.

She nodded, flustered.

He leaned over to kiss her. She blocked his move.

"Uh huh. I told you you couldn't kiss me if you ate that pie."

"But..."

"See you tonight!"

She smiled devilishly, raised her eyebrows, and slammed the door in his face.

_I win._

* * *

**Sorry if that wasn't earth-shattering... but I had to have some build-up before the next (and last) chapter...**** Date... couch... uhm... then Sweets... talk... confessions... and yes, M-rated. Be advised.**

**How about a review? Oh, you were about to? Sorry, I didn't mean to push.**** Go ahead.**


	9. Irrefutable Conclusion

**WARNING:  
Pure fluff ahead.  
And M-rated stuff.  
I'm serious. I don't think I've ever written longer smut in my life.**

**(and a really long Author's Note…)**

**First off, thank you so much for your reviews! I can't believe how many of you took the time to make sure my head got bigger :)**

**A special shout-out to ****iRONiCGiRL91**** ;) who told me I was in the big leagues of FF BONES writers.**

**To Julie who knows the longest she has no Internet, the more likely she is to lose that bet.**

**To... Ok, so I just went through my reviews to dedicate this to those of you who left most reviews... and realized you pretty much _all_ reviewed _all _chapters... so I won't name names because if I forget someone, then I'll feel bad. And I don't like feeling bad. **

**(If you're still reading this, then you might be starting to ask yourselves "is the chapter ever gonna start??" Well, maybe I'm just delaying the ending because I love it too much...)**

**Writing this has been a delight because of your amazing response to it. I hope I did those two justice until the end. Thanks again for the support, guys!**

**Here's one of the longest chapters I've ever posted. (I just couldn't get enough of them.)**

* * *

Chapter 9  
Irrefutable Conclusion

This wasn't even funny. She was losing her mind. She had no control whatsoever over anything anymore. First, she had trouble concentrating at work; she couldn't compartmentalize him at all. To be honest, she had always wanted him in a very primal way. His pheromones had definitely always called out to her. But the line had always been there to remind her of what was at stake. However, now? No line. She could have him. Not only that, but she _would_ have him. It was supposed to be a good thing. A great thing. But it was not supposed to alter her brain functions, for God's sake!

Yet, there she was, in front of his apartment door… giving her hair some volume with her fingers. What the hell? That wasn't her. Ok, fine. It was her. She had never felt more herself than right now. She just wasn't sure she liked that person at all. That typical woman who had spent over half an hour deciding which matching underwear she wanted Booth to see for the first time. And she had gone with black? _on!_ How original could she get?

"Hi," he greeted her, opening the door.

Her fist was still raised. She hadn't even knocked.

"Hi," she smiled, slowly bringing her hand down.

Booth realized he was staring at her in a pretty intense way that was about to become creepy. Her hair was down, wavy, shiny. Inviting. Her blouse was… yes, it was very inviting, too.

"You're beautiful, Bones."

_And now you're blushing?_ How girly could she get?

She shoved the bag in his hands instead of dropping it to the floor to push him against the wall behind him.

"I brought wine. Red _and_ white. I didn't know what we were having for dinner, so…"

_Stop. Babbling._

"Oh, thanks."

"I knew you probably already had beer, so I didn't get any, I…"

_I said. Stop. Babbling._

Booth chuckled.

"Come on in," he said, getting out of the doorway.

She did. And as she looked around the apartment she knew so well, she tried to block all thoughts. Because they didn't even have dinner yet, and all she could think about was how comfortable the couch was. And how she had always wanted to step inside that bedroom of his.

"It smells good," she said, turning to him.

"Portobello mushroom tortellini with a candied almond spinach salad," he blurted out.

_That didn't sound rehearsed at all. Good job, buddy._

"Yes, that smells good too," she said, passing in front of him with a sly smile on her lips.

He followed her to the living room like a puppy. Yes, like an excited puppy.

"Do you want some wine?" he asked, slightly raising the bag he was holding.

"Sure. Here, I can do it." She went to take the bag back, but he stopped her.

"Oh, dinner's almost ready. You can sit down, I'll be right back."

"I can't just sit down while you're doing everything," she said, tilting her head.

"You're my guest. Guests are not allowed in the kitchen."

Her face dropped.

"Booth, _please._ Let me do _something_. I can't just… sit and do nothing." _I'll go crazy._

He winced.

"The kitchen's a mess. It actually looks worse than when Pops set it on fire."

"It can't be _that_ bad."

She took the bag and headed to the small kitchen. Pots and pans everywhere... pieces of vegetable on the floor… sink full of dishes…

…

…Was that sauce on the wall?

"Wow," she let out. "You weren't kidding."

Embarrassed, he put his hand through his hair and let it hang onto the back of his neck for a few seconds. Then he snapped out of it. He swiftly cleared the table while she put the white wine in the fridge. A wave of normalcy washed over them. Without words, they knew exactly how to move in the kitchen without stepping over each other. She set the table while he finished prepping the salad; he brought two wine glasses as she uncorked the bottle. And before they knew it, they were having dinner. Their first dinner as a couple.

But as she cleared their plates off the table so he could serve the dessert, he remembered what he had forgotten.

"I'll be right back," he said before disappearing.

She put the empty dishes in the sink and realized she wasn't so nervous anymore… which made her nervous again.

He came back and put something in the middle of the table. She couldn't see what. She heard him say, "It's a little late for that, but…" and she heard a cracking sound. The scent of a burnt match tickled her nostrils. Booth hit the lights to let the candle glow dance all around them. She smiled, looked down to blush in peace, and looked up.

"You didn't have to do all this," she said. "I would have been more than fine with a grilled-cheese in the living room."

"I know," he shrugged, reaching for something behind him.

As soft music from the radio behind Booth started playing, a chuckle made its way up her throat. She bit down on her lips not to let it escape and shut her eyes tightly. _Oh, my God._

Booth had never been more embarrassed in his life. He was ruining everything!

"You hate it," he cringed.

"No!" she interjected strongly. "I love it. It's just a little… weird. A good weird. But weird."

Her nerves got the best of her and she couldn't her but laugh out loud. Booth groaned and she tried to shut herself up with a hand over her mouth.

He turned the lights back on.

"No! Booth!"

And shut down the radio.

"No! Please," she pleaded again with remnants of giggles in her voice. He looked so disappointed, it broke her heart. Yet she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

She walked up to him, reached for the lights.

"I'm sorry!" she said, turning them off again. "I just…"

She turned radio back on and put her hands over his shoulders.

"I have to get out of my head," she said softly, searching for his eyes. "It's just that… details like that… those little touches… You're really good at them, and I've never met that side of you before. So I…"

She ran her hands up and down his arms and ended up lacing her fingers with his. He finally looked at her.

"… I just have to relax, that's all. I'm nervous," she admitted. "I'm _really…_ nervous."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. They swayed along the music. She looked down at his shirt.

"You seem so… in control," she said. "And calm. You're so calm that it's making me feel stupid."

It was his turn to chuckle. To prove her how wrong she was, he gently grabbed her fingers and put them over his skin, pressed them on the side of his neck, right under his jaw, where she could feel his crazy rapid heartbeats.

"Oh…" she let out.

His skin was warm. She breathed in. And he smelled so damn good. She closed her eyes, feeling his heart pulsating under her fingers. His hand dropped to her wrist, his thumb moved over it, and she slowly let her fingers go down his neck and his chest. And she placed it over his heart.

He buried his nose into her hair, intoxicating himself with her delicate scent. Light headed, he caressed her back.

She moved her head slightly so his cheek was against hers and breathed down his neck. She sensed him shiver and he held her closer. She sneaked her nose under his ear. They spent a few seconds like suspended in slow motion. One never-ending delicious moment. Her lips brushed against his skin, not really on purpose, but then she pressed them against the same spot again. And again. Her lips trailed along his jaw as he turned his face towards her. She very deliberately teased the corner of his mouth with hers and let her fingers drift up to the back of his head. He kissed her once. Their noses met and lingered. She locked eyes with him. Her heart was thumping now. Shutting her eyes again, she sighed into another kiss.

As they tasted each other with growing intensity, his breathing was getting heavier and heavier, more and more arousing. Her lower body pressed hard against his and they moved into the living room. She clutched onto his shoulders. Tried to hang onto his chest. Slid her hands over the hard muscles of his waist, always pulling him closer. Tilting her head on the other side, she let her tongue lead the way into his mouth. Urged by an overpowering yearning, he grabbed her hips and pushed his towards her, letting her feel the firm tension in his pants. A soft, strangled moan escaped her lips and she pulled his ass closer, wanting to feel it over the same spot again.

He managed to sit on the couch and she straddled him. She needed to touch him. She needed to taste him. As his hands moved over her shirt, and his thumbs caressed the side of her breasts, her face dropped to his neck and her fingers fumbled with a button of his shirt. Her lower body instinctively moved back and forth, allowing her most intimate spot to rub over the hard bulge in his pants. She couldn't get his shirt open, her fingers were shaking. She urged to rip it off. Her need for him was so overwhelming. She was about to lose her own self.

She suddenly stopped moving. Her forehead resting on his chest, her breathing, panting, matching his. He tried to look at her. She was hiding her face. He pushed her hair out of the way and saw her eyes were closed.

"You ok?" he whispered.

"I can't…" she let out, her voice muffled between them.

He leaned back and forced her chin up with his index finger. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were glazed with desire. His pants were tight with frustration, but his brain was confused. He tried to joke his way out of awkwardness.

"Is it because I had pie for lunch? I brushed my teeth like… three times."

She let out a nervous laugh before taking a deep breath to explain. Her fingers played with his damn shirt button and she licked her very swollen lips before talking.

"I can't. Not now."

"Why?"

He hadn't meant to sound pushy. But she really did look like she could. Right now.

"Same reason I couldn't six years ago," she continued.

He let his fingers through her hair and frowned.

"Because I'm a mean bastard?"

"Because I want to too much."

His eyebrows rose up but he forced them down.

"Ok… uhm…" How could he phrase that without sounding like a horn dog? "I don't want to sound like I'm pushing this or… rushing you, but…" He shook his head. "That does not make any sense. At all."

She didn't know how to explain.

"I'm sorry," she huffed, shutting her eyes.

He cupped her face in his hands.

"Well, you don't have to be sorry," he laughed. "I'm not… mad or anything. I… We can watch TV."

She still had one leg on each side of his lap. She didn't look like she had any intention of ever moving.

She needed to explain.

"I'm really sorry, Booth. I know I've made things uncomfortable."

He shook his head.

"It's ok," he assured her.

"No." She laid her hands flat on his pectoral muscles. "I really… I want you to know that I really want to sleep with you. That's all I can think about. All the time!"

His erection was never ever going away, was it?

"I realize that we are in our 30s, almost 40s…" she said, pointing to him.

"Hey!" he laughed, interrupting her.

She went on.

"And that if I could stop thinking, we would have done it at least 6 times already in the past… today."

Had she said 'today' or 'two days'?

"I mean… I've fantasized countless times about the many ways we would do it."

His eyes widened and his mouth opened, but she put her hand over his lips to keep talking.

"But…" She slightly leaned forward, making sure he was looking at her. "This is important. I've never felt like it was _that_ important before."

He pulled her fingers away from his mouth.

"Did I give you the impression that it wasn't important to me?" he asked, concerned.

"No! No. It's not you…"

He winced at the words. She remembered.

"I know! Angela warned me never to use that phrase with a man." She gathered her thoughts. "I'm just…"

_Scared. Out of my mind._

"You're processing," he finished for her.

"Yes."

He nodded. She hoped he wasn't too upset with her.

"Don't worry," she added. "I usually don't take too long to process things."

He smiled softly and kissed her.

"Don't worry," he said. "You probably have no idea how patient I can be."

She took his beauty in. Yes. That man was beautiful.

"I want you, Booth. With every fiber of my being," she quoted back to him. But then she added, "In fact, if I had a penis, it would be really engorg…"

_Whoa!_

He got up instantly. She yelped, but he wasn't letting her fall. He let her down easy.

"Ok! What do you say we eat some dessert and stop talking about your penis, huh?"

"W… I don't actually _have_ one," she made clear.

He burst out laughing.

"Good to know."

***

Angela seemed to be waiting for something.

Brennan didn't seem to understand what she was waiting for. She had to ask out loud.

"How was dinner last night?"

Brennan smiled and answered, "Really good."

Angela's eyes were sparkling with interest.

"I bet."

But she needed more than 'really good'. She wanted details. Lots and lots of details. Juicy details. Juicy was always good.

"Go on…" she pushed.

"Gordon Gordon gave him the recipe. He made Portobello mushroom tortellini and a spinach salad with almonds. Chefs usually don't give out their recipes, but he said it was for a good cause," she laughed. "Oh, and Booth even light candles and put some music. It was very nice."

_Oh yeah. _That's_ exciting._

Angela stood there, still waiting.

"What?"

"I wasn't thinking of that kind of food. More of the one that feeds the soul."

Of course she had to frown a second before getting it.

"Oh! No. We didn't."

Angela laughed out loud. _Yeah, right!_

"Come on! I thought I was your best friend. You should be ashamed to lie to me."

"Booth says I'm not a very good liar," she said, as-a-matter-of-factly.

She was serious?

"You _didn't_?"

"No."

Angela blinked. Opened her mouth. And blinked. And closed her mouth.

"But we will," Brennan reassured her. "We're just… waiting."

"Waiting, huh?" She put her fists on her hips. "Aren't you two sick of waiting?" _I know I am._ "Wow. I was convinced you would have been all over each other in a matter of milliseconds." She sighed. "You, my friend, have amazing self-control."

"Why do you assume I'm the one in control?" Brennan asked.

_Because. Have you not seen the way he looks at you? That gorgeous man has been walking around with a massive hard-on for the past 5 years._

"Just a guess," she explained. "Well… If you ever need some privacy here, I know this secret place downstairs. Cleopatra's bed. Fabulous." She winked and she went back to work.

***

"So! How are things?"

Sweets waited. Neither of them was talking. Or seemed to want to. Ever.

"Any problems you'd like to address?" he tried again.

Brennan chuckled.

"We barely even started dating. How could we have problems already?" she said.

_Straight to the point, then._

"How's the intimacy?" Sweets dropped.

Brennan was instantly taken aback. She was even more shocked that Booth was still quiet. Sweets should have lost an eye by now.

"Why aren't you objecting?" she asked, turning to her partner.

"Because I'm not a lawyer," he replied.

Sweets laughed.

"Very funny!"

But his laughter died as soon as Brennan shot him a look.

"Or not. Ok," he mumbled.

"This is highly unprofessional of you, Dr. Sweets," she barked.

"Actually, it's not. It's my job to counsel you, to induce discussions to help you manage a healthy working-relationship and balance it with the new romantic aspect."

She crossed her arms over her chest, shaking her head 'no'.

Booth said, "Maybe we…"

But she shut him up instantly.

"I am _not_ discussing my… _our_ intimacy with him. No way. Uh huh."

Sweets took the opportunity to explain.

"Fear of intimacy is…"

But she cut him short.

"Can we _please_ stop saying 'intimacy'? And I'm not afraid of… _it._"

The psychologist had to jump on that choice of terminology.

"You were never afraid of words either…"

Brennan couldn't believe this. She looked at Booth, helpless. But he was just sitting there, looking at the floor.

"I've had plenty of sex before Booth. I think I can manage."

"I'm not necessarily referring to sex, Dr. Brennan," Sweets rectified. "Fear of intimacy involves the reluctance to open up and reveal your true self, perhaps because you've been hurt in the past. Or, if you grew up in an emotionally closed environment and never learned how to be vulnerable to either friends or lovers, you may have a hard time opening up now."

_Nonsense!_

She was still looking over at Booth.

_Say something!_

She glared at Sweets.

"I'm open. We talk about things. We..." To Booth again. "Right?"

"Why are you looking at me? I didn't say anything!" he said.

_I know that!_

"Well, you're not helping me either."

Sweets decided to continue his explanation.

"Withdrawing when others talk about their thoughts and feelings, protecting yourself, often reveals fear of intimacy."

"Well, that's Booth," she noticed.

Booth frowned. Sweets babbled on.

"Being critical of yourself or others is fear of intimacy."

"Well, that's you," Booth told her.

Brennan's dug her nails into her palms. Her teeth clenched.

"Feelings of anger or discomfort when others voice their thoughts and opinions show a fear of intimacy."

She spun up on her feet.

"That's it. I've had enough."

And she stormed out, slamming the door back shut.

Booth spat an aggressive glance at Sweets who raised both his hands in his defence.

She was leaning against the wall near the elevator when he found her.

He approached carefully.

"Is it just me or did we just swap roles? That was so _Freaky Friday._"

"It's Wednesday," she corrected him. "But it was freaky. What's with you? Why didn't you say anything to him? You said it yourself! It's none of their business! Why does everything we do or don't do have to go on the record? Why do we need to dissect everything? And why didn't you tell him off like you always do?"

He placed his hands on her hips.

"Because I want this to work," he whispered, leaning in closer. "I want it all, Bones. I want to work with you, I want to be with you. And if I have to pretend like I don't care spilling my guts to Dr. Doogie Howser every week, then I can do that."

She locked eyes with him as he continued to calm her down.

"And we don't have to tell them everything. Just... Once they see it's solid, that _we_'re solid, like I know we are, they'll leave us alone."

She took a second to swallow.

"How can you be so incredibly confident about us? It's been less than a week," she murmured.

He caressed her cheek.

"We've been together for five years. We just... kiss with our mouths open instead of our eyes, now."

Why didn't that sound cheesy? It should have sounded cheesy.

She dug deeper into his stare. She confessed.

"I've always loved those eye kisses."

The elevator doors opened and they stared until they were inside, doors closed.

Now that she was not angry anymore, he decided to lift the mood even more and try to make her laugh.

"Maybe if we got married, they'd stay out of it."

He waited for her usual anti-marriage tirade.

"Ok," she said instantly.

His head jerked towards her. _What?_

"I... I was kidding," he blurted out.

She got the naughtiest smile he had ever seen.

"So was I."

And she stared at the floor countdown over the doors.

3... 2... 1...

***

Booth was getting beer in his fridge when she found it hanging on a chair. Catherine's tie.

"Why don't you ever wear it?" she asked him, showing it to him, before taking the bottle he was handing her.

He shrugged.

"It's just a tie."

She took a sip, swallowed, all the while asking herself if she really wanted to know. But then she asked anyway.

"Did you... uhm... Did you sleep with her?"

He stared at her blankly. How could she even wonder for a second?

"It's ok if you have," she added quickly. "I mean... you're not a monk. And I, too, know that masturbation can become less satisfying over a long period of time."

Her laugh sounded fake. Because it was.

"I didn't," he assured her.

She nodded, enjoying the relief she had no idea she needed.

He sat down on the couch and lifted his arm so that she could snuggle against him. She did.

"Don't you wanna know if I slept with Andrew?"

Booth winced.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Do I want to know?"

She smiled.

"I didn't have sex with him," she said. "I... uhm... I never even kissed him. On the lips, I mean."

Booth let his hand explore the skin of her arm, creating a line of goose bumps on the way.

"You know," she continued. "All those things I said over the years about... monogamy... and it being a waste of energy and... unnatural..." She lifted her chin to look at him. "I don't think I believe that anymore. These past few months, this past year, I've learned that I can be a jealous person. And..." She took his hand. "If you feel the same way I do... then... I could never cheat on you." He looked down at her. "I just thought you should know that."

The smile he gave her... she took it in, felt it wrap around her heart and gave it back to him.

He took the beer she was gripping on and set it on the coffee table. She couldn't help herself. She kissed him fully and, taking his consent for granted, she allowed her tongue to tease for entrance. He instantly moaned his approval and pushed himself over her so she was lying on the couch.

His weight on top of her made her crave. She brought up her knees and, with her heels, brought his lower body even closer. She let him taste her neck. She knew she was on the verge of letting go. But as his fingers gained access to the skin of her stomach, she froze. Again.

She couldn't let go. She couldn't. She wanted it to mean something. To the both of them. She wanted... she _needed _him to believe that it meant everything to her. But how could she ask that from him when she had spent this whole time telling him sex was sex. Sex was a release. A common activity. She couldn't.

"Booth..."

She pushed him away, although her whole body and her heart were screaming for him. It tore her up inside, but she pushed him away.

He could have cried. He took a deep breath and sat back up.

"I'm sorry..." he heard her whisper so softly he wasn't even sure she had said it out loud.

"No, _I'm_ sorry. You told me you didn't want to... and yet I..."

He sighed. He wasn't mad. Far from it. He just... didn't understand. He was supposed to be the prude one. Hadn't she said plenty of time how spontaneous and inhibited she was? He didn't get it. Had he done something?

"All of this is your fault," she groaned. Mad at herself. Mad at her old self. Deeply frustrated.

"_My _fault? How is this _my_ fault?"

"I _love_ sex!" she cried out.

He burst out laughing.

"And you think I _don't_?"

"No, but you had to make a big deal out of it, talking about making love and engaging and angels and... And I'm not sure... How could you possibly... How can I..." She felt tears nearing and she let out a shaky, irritated short breath.

Booth was lost.

"H... I... I'm sorry. I don't know what that means," he said, really trying. He could usually read her well. But...

She gathered her thoughts. Gave up on trying to hide the confused and scared wetness in her eyes and looked at him.

"I've spent the most of 4 years telling you I didn't believe in love and all of a sudden, here I am, _viscerally_ needing to make love to you, to show you... I _love_ you... and... what? I'm supposed to just ask you to believe me? How's that fair?"

Booth's stomach twisted.

"That's more than fair," he said.

"You're saying you believe me. I just have to say... I'm in love with you... and you go for it. Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"But..." she chocked on her breath. "... Why?"

"Because I know you, Bones." He took a piece of her hair between his fingers. "And you dazzle me. And so I believe you just like you'll believe me when I say it."

She could feel her heart thumping in her chest.

"How do you know what I'll believe?" she asked.

He took her hands and his eyes grazed her face before locking with hers, filled with expectations. His voice was deep. Assertive. Grave. Pressing. Honest.

"I love you."

She shakily breathed in. Her chest compressed. Her vision was blurred. She blinked away the tears. And as she breathed out she knew that's how you knew. You just knew.

She nodded. She believed. Trust. Faith.

"And not in a 'atta-girl' kind of way?" she said, her voice far from steady.

He smiled. He was there. He could feel it. He was in. And he was in to stay.

"And I know you, you need tangible evidence." He caressed her cheek, let his thumb touch her lips. She put her hand over his, leaning her head against it. "And so I'm gonna ask you to let me prove it to you," he finished.

Her gaze dropped to his lips.

So _that_ was the burden of proof.

She took the hand he was offering her and followed him as he backed to his bedroom.

They stopped moving, studying each other. She didn't even wonder why he was with her. She didn't question it. His eyes on her made her feel worthy.

That. That look in her eye. That bare confidence in him, that implicit trust they had both worked so long to find.

He ran his fingers through her hair, delicately tilting her head back, took a step forward and leaned over her. His lips nibbled once on her bottom lip, then on her upper lip.

Feeling her knees about to give out, she grabbed his face with both her hands. When she felt his tongue, warm and wet, on her lips, hers darted out too, and they started a slow erotic dance. Mouths open, breathing already confused and heavy. The buttons of his shirt came undone easily this time. She broke the kiss. She needed to see him. Her hands parted his shirt. She let them explore his chest. Let her nails gently caress it down. She then snuck her hands over his shoulders and pushed the sleeves down. She tilted her head, brought her fingers to his neck and kissed him again. Slowly, hungrily. When her thumbs teased his nipples, his fingers dug a little deeper into her back. He kissed her neck and she threw her head back. Her chest rose, needing to be touched. Uncovered. He undid one button and kissed her throat. She breathed out. Another button, and another. He finally slipped the blouse off and took a step back to admire her. The beautiful curve of her breasts compressing over and over again into their lace cage, following the pace of her breathing.

"Oh, God..." he whispered, the tightness of his pants starting to hurt.

"You're not going to call God every five minutes, are you?" she asked, a smile on the corner of her lips.

He had barely started shaking his head 'no', and before he could respond, the tip of her fingers sneaked into his belt. And without ever breaking eye contact, she undid the cocky buckle.

"And it slides right off," she whispered.

He touched her stomach with the back of his fingers, felt it quiver. He forgot to breathe when he felt her snap the button of his pants. She bit her bottom lip, making her look so damn vulnerable and exquisite, before she brought the zipper down. About to lose it, he let his own fingers into the front of her pants and did the same.

She got rid of her jeans and he watched, literally aching to touch her. And so he did. He placed his left hand on the small of her back and let his right hand trail down from her throat to between her breasts. She sighed heavily and her chest jerked forward. He leaned and replaced his hand with his mouth. He kissed and teased the top of their so perfect roundness.

"Booth..." she hissed, sliding her hands into the back of his jeans, pressing his ass firmly towards her.

He lifted her up swiftly and let her gently onto the bed. She watched him take off his jeans. The sound of her breathing increased, her heart pounded even more than it already was when she saw the intensity of his desire under his underwear as he kneeled on the bed. She got up on her knees too, facing him. She traced his perfect jaw line with her fingers and he kissed her. Sensually. And he slid his fingers under the straps of her bra.

"Pink, huh?" he murmured against her lips.

"You don't like it?" she huffed.

He looked at her.

"I love it. I just always pictured you in black underwear. Or in no underwear."

She lost her breath a second as her stomach fluttered.

"Well, that can be arranged."

She slowly unclasped her bra and let it fall down.

She saw him as he tried to breathe. He blinked, as if he had never seen a naked woman before her. She swallowed, getting nervous.

She took his hands, looked him in the eye and covered her breasts with his palm, pressing them. He instantly brushed her nipples with his thumbs. And again. _More._ She caught his lips and as their tongues met again, partly outside their mouths, she brought his body even closer. His erection pressed directly onto her most sensitive spot. She gyrated her hips ever so slightly making him moan. She needed more of that intoxicating sound. Bringing him with her, she let herself fall back onto the mattress. He steadied himself over her, leaning on one forearm and traced circles around her areolas before swapping his fingers with his tongue. He carefully avoided her pointed nipples to make her squirm under him. He caressed her skin and she arched her back. His lips now assaulting her neck, he slid his hand down. She moaned in anticipation as it neared and neared. But he avoided touching her where she needed him to and went to her knee. Up to her thigh. Up. He finally cupped her between her legs. He groaned as he felt her wetness through her underwear. Her hips jerked forward. And she muffled his name as she searched for his mouth, eyes closed in delight.

She managed to take off his underwear, and, still kissing him, still needing him, she hooked her legs around him. She felt the tip of his rock-hard penis pushing slightly into her opening through the fabric of her panties. Instinctively, she grabbed his ass and pulled him even closer. A raspy sound came from one of their throats.

When she reached and took him in her small hand, he tensed up even more. They searched for each others' eyes and as she pumped him once, they understood they couldn't wait anymore. Her underwear was quickly gone and she took him in herself, holding the tip of it in place with her inner muscles. They were still staring when he pushed himself into her completely. Her head jerked backwards.

"Oh, God!" she cried out.

And he slowly started thrusting. In and out. And she pushed on his ass with her heels to feel him even deeper. Hypnotized by the sounds of pleasure the other made. And he moved faster. Feeling she was on the verge of complete and utter pleasure, he slowed down his pace and withdrew almost all the way.

"Don't stop," she pleaded. "Booth..." His name died on her lips as he started rubbing her soaked clit with his thumb. And after one last cry from her, he entered her again. Deeper than ever. And he hit the same wonderful spot over and over again.

"Oh, God!" She started shaking. Spasms inside. Like heartbeats. All of her senses exploded. And as her toes curled up, he spilled inside of her.

They spent a moment, completely useless, lost in each other. Lost in themselves. When their breathing finally slowed down to normal, he laid beside her. The beads of sweat on her body made her shiver. He pulled a blanket over them and held her close.

"So..." Booth whispered, with a mocking smile in his voice. "Who called out to God?"

She giggled, only because she was exhausted, and laced her fingers with his. She stared at their hands. Perfect.

"Do you think he's offended, that the one time I actually call out to him is because one of his followers is giving me the most incredible orgasm of all time?"

He didn't respond so she turned her face to him. His eyes were tightly shut. He was red in the face, and not from exhaustion.

"What?" she asked.

"You have to stop talking like that."

"Like what?"

"I'm actually embarrassed for you," he said.

She laughed out.

"Well, you didn't look at all embarrassed when you were pleasing me."

He groaned and she hid most of her laugh in the crook of his neck.

She brought her lips to his ear and whispered into it, now really serious.

"I love you, Booth."

His eyes fluttered open. He dropped his face to the side until their noses were brushing against each other. And he looked at her. Really looked at her. She had seen that expression on his face hundreds of times over the years. Always mesmerized by it, it would always accelerate her heart rate and do funny things to her stomach as she always tried to hold his gaze, trying to read, trying to understand the meaning of that specific look.

"I love you," he stated. He explained.

The breath she drew was filled with butterflies. It felt so good, she physically hurt.

"You love me," she whispered, much to herself.

"Yes. Do you want me to prove it to you?"

"W… If you're not too sleepy…" she lingered, reaching underneath the covers to verify the sleepiness of his manhood.

***

As he turned to her, she asked,

"When we were married in your head... was it as good as this?"

He let his finger trace circles on her naked shoulder.

"Nothing can be as good as this," he said. "I wonder if my neighbors will still like you, though."

Her clear laugh filled the room.

"Hey, don't blame the vocals on me."

She crossed her arms over his chest.

"So, what are you gonna tell Angela?" he asked.

"About what?"

Her eyelids were heavy with contentment. Bliss. She could actually hear his smug look in his voice.

"Am I as good as I am in your books?"

She snorted.

"Actually, I know what I'm gonna tell her."

"What?"

"That it's none of her business."

Surprised, he looked down at her.

"Wow. She's not going to like it," he warned her.

She kept silent for a while. Then,

"Well... Would you mind if I... told her just a little bit?"

"Oh! You wanna brag about me!"

He felt her shrug.

"Just trying to spread the joy," she explained.

***

"So..." he started, resting his head on his fist, elbow on the mattress. "When you say you _fantasized_ about us countless times and many ways..."

She chuckled.

"Could you be more specific?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Your puritan self can't handle it."

"Try me."

She turned over and rested on her stomach.

"The bathroom in that bar six years ago," she admitted.

"The bathroom, really?" he asked, surprised.

"What?"

"I dunno. It's just... not sanitary."

"In my mind, it is," she explained.

"Sure. Go on..."

She thought. There were way too many.

"Maybe I should just enumerate them. My bed, your bed, your couch... countless times. My..."

"... desk?" he guessed.

"Oh, yeah."

He smiled.

"We're always on your desk," he continued. "Or against a wall."

"Which wall?" she wanted to know.

"Any walls. In my mind, you love walls."

He drew with his finger on her back.

"On the airplane going to China," he admitted.

"I would have gotten kicked out of first class," she pointed out.

"I'm not first class enough for you, Miss Rolex?"

Before she could reply, she thought of a place.

"Oh! That room in Vegas."

He sneered as he remembered that dress.

"Or our trailer at the circus," she added.

Booth laughed. _Wow._ She really had thought this through. A lot.

"And definitely your bathtub," she continued.

"With or without the beer hat?"

"With."

Their feet tangled.

He got one.

"The interrogation room."

She shook her head.

"I'd be worried people would watch us on the other side."

"And they would to. We are _hot!_"

And to prove it, he kissed her. She instantly wrapped her arms around him and they rolled over. He pinned her hands over her head. He said,

" Sweets told me of a secret place downstairs at the lab..."

"Cleopatra's bed?" Brennan finished for him.

"How do you know?"

"Angela," she said.

They frowned.

"Angela and Sweets?"

"Noooo....That's just disturbing."

"Well.. Sweets with anyone is disturbing."

"Sweets alone is disturbing."

"Can we not talk about Sweets in bed, please?"

"Sure." She waited a bit. Then imitated the shrink. "So. How's the intimacy?"

"Mmm..." He kissed her neck. "I think we have to work on certain issues..."

"Oh yeah?"

They rolled over again.

------------------

**THE END**

**I hope you all like fluff and smut... because there wasn't much else, huh? Haha**

**Thanks, guys!**

**One last comment? Or quote? Or... **

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